Flame Legacy 2: Old Wounds
by practice4morale
Summary: It's been three years since Xing. Maes is already a Colonel due to 'Maes Effect' on the higher ups. Nina's a State Alchemist under his command with mega skill and zilch interest in military crap. Ed returned to the military to relearn alchemy without equivalent exchange-and he sucks. Riza wants grandkids. Roy's still in denial about Nina being married. Winry...um, you'll see.
1. Major's for Life, part 1 of 2

_Longtime respected Fuhrer, Roy Mustang, had said the ongoing peacetime was stable. If Fullmetal had known otherwise, he wouldn't've let his son join the Alchemic Research dpt. 3 yrs ago. If Maes Elric had known, he wouldn't've put his dad as his subordinate 2 yrs ago. If Nina (Mustang)Elric had known, she may've told Maes about kinda accidentally skipping the pill two nights ago._

**Author's Note: Calling all 'Flame Legacy' fans! I know I said I was never doing a sequel to FL. Never ever EVER! Well, I changed my mind. I could bore you with details, but just no. Here's a sneak preview at the start of the first chapter. The full chapter will go up sometime soon after 'Accident Baby' is complete (_still_ on hold due to technical difficulty *sigh*). This preview is more like a, "Rally the troops! Get psyched! Because I totally said this wasn't happening. But it totally is!" Read! REVIEW! GET PUMPED! Above all, follow, because it's coming :)**

**WARNING! This fanfiction is directly tied to 'Flame Legacy.' Make sure you've read FL before you jump into this one or this one won't make sense. At all.**

**Find more details on this fanfiction on my profile.**

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Chapter One: Major's For Life, part 1/2

"Well, frack," I said to myself. "That pretty much didn't work at all."

"So much for using Amestris's tax money wisely," laughed Selim. "Yours, anyway, Major Mustang."

"Oh, my frickin' dang. Shut up, Selim. What does that even mean?"

It was that season again. It was time for all the government's research teams to renew their grants and certifications. That kind of useless, distracting junk. All year, all the teams would be making breakthroughs and figuring it out, and then winter came and all the sudden everyone was obsessing on their stupid presentations. That's why I'd told Maes before work that morning to take care of all that cosmetic junk without me. He was good at getting our team grants and crap. I had better things to do.

Selim looked down at the defective matrix I'd chalked onto the slate center table, the decaying apple I'd tried to use as material to grow a fresh tree. Plenty of bio-alchemists had found ways to transmute organic materials equivalently, but I thought bigger than that. I wanted to grow new life out of stuff that could barely be considered alive anymore.

"So," said Selim, running his finger along the edge of the table. "Do you plan on starting from scratch again, or are you ready to admit it was a grandiose concept to begin with and you've poured far too much money into this as it is?"

"Grandiose?" I scoffed. "What kind of bull have they been feeding you creeps in the Court Marshall's Office?"

Selim smiled in that smirky way, like a little brat. Jeez. He was, like, two solid years older than me. Soon as he'd quit trying to date me, he'd decided to make himself annoying and stuff.

Maes had taken the rest of the team with him for the presentation so they could all get recognized or whatever. Selim was just keeping me company during his lunch break. He wasn't even on the same floor as me. He had joined the military a little after me, right after he'd graduated college, and he had climbed from Private to Second Lieutenant from behind a desk in a matter of three years. I hadn't been promoted once. Mostly because I didn't need a promotion to do my job. So there.

"Listen up, Selim," I said. I slipped on a couple latex gloves and cuffed my uniform's blue sleeves, revealing the altered Dragon's Pulse matrixes tattooed lightly on either wrist. "I know it can be done. I'm just having an issue teaching other people how to do it. We clear?"

I grabbed the squishy apple in one hand and closed my eyes for a split moment, like a meaningful blink. I did it like I always did; tracked the Dragon's Pulse, joined my life force to its rhythm, and channeled the energy through the organic matter; like throwing life into it and riding it back into the earth like a vast circuit. I felt the old seeds charge with raw energy, the outer shell taught, ready to be pierced, ready to release the potential I'd invited to escape. The rotten apple vibrated and broke in my hand. Roots devoured and overtook the apple's flesh, using the fruit as nourishment to grow. In a matter of moments, I was holding the sapling of an apple tree in my right hand. I dropped it on the table.

"I'm not growing it past that size," I said. "No way am I cleaning up a tree."

Selim applauded reverently. "I stand corrected, Major."

"Quit calling me that," I said as I peeled my hands out of the latex gloves. "We've known each other forever. We used to date. No way in hell is this ever going to be professional, am I right?"

Selim smirked. "In your case? I'm not certain you have any professional relationships, Nina." He looked at the tree I'd scrapped. "How'd you do that, anyway?"

I shrugged a shoulder. "Oh, you know."

"No," he said. "No one does. You said a minute ago that that was exactly your problem. I don't understand. You've invested your resources into this project for the past three months. I know Colonel Elric specializes in developing new matrixes for these projects, but the matrixes on your wrists seem to achieve the goal just fine."

"Well, yeah," I said, staring at my wrists, the neutral tattoos too light to tell they were there from a few feet back. "These matrixes aren't for growing trees or whatever, though. They're just input-output points to help channel my life force during transmutations. The rest is just me working the controls."

"You barely touched alchemy until a few years ago. How is this so easy for you? Were you a homunculus in a previous life or something?"

I snorted. "Homunculi are made from alchemy. Doesn't make them alchemists."

"It's the same thing."

I looked him up and down and the name, 'Pride,' ran through my head until I was trying not to laugh. Pansy still had no idea what he had been, what he still kind of was. I only knew because Maes had told me. Didn't take away from the hilarity.

"Trust me," I said. "Homunculi can be just as useless as humans." More so, in your case, loser.

Selim rolled his eyes and stepped around the table to take my sapling in his hands. "Would you mind if I kept this? It'll grow if it's planted, right?"

"Not in this climate," I said. "Take it. Give it to Elycia. She'll call me after dinner and talk about it for an hour."

Selim got rosy. He was kind of a dork about Elycia. It was like he thought their relationship was secret or something. He'd been the one to tell me, for God's sake! Three years ago!

He smiled at me. "If the higher ups saw half of what you do in this room in a day, you'd be a colonel just like Maes by now."

"No," I said. My eyes sank to my wrists, the discolored marks that made up my arrays. "They know I'm good. That's the only reason they don't ditch me." I looked up, arching a brow. "And trust me. My hubby didn't make Colonel on alchemy alone. He's a flipping genius with the Maes Effect on his side. No one makes Colonel like Maes did. Not even my old man could've pulled off that many ranks in three years."

Selim blinked. "Maes Effect?"

Clink. I perked up. Clink. I looked at the door. Selim knit his eyebrows at me all inquiring like he hadn't noticed my father in-law's footsteps. Me? I noticed everything. The door pushed open within seconds and Uncle Ed stepped through with a smile already on his face.

"Hey, kids," he said. "Sorry. I was at the drinking fountain and I heard the word, 'old.' I just assumed someone was talking about our Fuhrer and I wanted to get in on the action."

I felt myself brightening. "Heya, Uncle Fullmetal! How goes it?"

I hurried over and wrung my arms around his lean waist, tight enough to get him making that funny choking sound he did when he pretended I was actually strong. I stepped back. He patted my head the way he still did to Maes.

"You know how it is," he said. "That slavedriver father of yours trying to promote me again."

I folded my arms. "What'd you tell him?"

"Told him, 'Major's for life!'"

"Whoo!"

Selim stared awkwardly as Uncle Ed and I pounded knuckles all cool and camaraderie-style. We were pretty much the only State Alchemists in Central who didn't give a damn about the military. That was probably why we were the only researchers under Maes's command not at the presentation right then.

"You ditched too, huh?" said Uncle Ed. He entered, coming over to the slate center-table where I'd been working. On a regular workday, he'd've been doing research junk and cursing the stupid apple out with me right now.

I stepped around with him. "They don't like me in there."

"You got that right," Uncle Ed laughed. He put his hand out to Selim and the sapling. "Hey, can I see that?"

Selim nodded and handed it over. Poor guy looked pale. Had some kind of ongoing irrational intimidation issue with Uncle Ed. Maybe the 'Pride' part of him remembered getting his ass whooped to more or less smithereens a couple decades back when Uncle Ed had turned him into not so much a psychotic monster-child.

Uncle Ed turned the foot-and-a-half-tall baby tree in his hands like a baseball bat. "I'm thinking you did this one, Nina?"

I shrugged a shoulder. "String bean over here didn't think it could be done. I showed him. So there."

Uncle Ed eyed Selim and chuckled. He looked back at the tree. "Just have to find a way for the rest of us to do it." He looked at the chalked matrix on the table. "And this?"

"Total dud," I said. "Give Selim the tree back. It's his."

Uncle Ed blinked. He handed Selim the tree and Selim took it back stiffly.

"My break is about to be over," Selim said to me. "I'll see you around, Nina. Good luck."

"Sure," I said with a smile. "Good luck with that tree in the snow, loser."

A smile made it onto his face as he exited on out. "Later, alchemy freak."

The door swung shut behind him. Uncle Ed watched with arched brows. "Oh, no he didn't."

"Give him this one," I said. "He's a freaking desk-worker. Boring, much? I think so."

Uncle Ed nodded. He patted my back. "This," he said, pointing to the failed array. "This is good. We're getting close."

"Yeah," I said. "Pretty soon I'll be able to ditch it for Maes and the guys to finish."

"You're not one to finish what you start." He seemed proud. Most people said that like it was something to be ashamed of.

"What the hell else are the rest of you guys for?" I said. "Gets to a point where it all turns to busy work for me, you know? I got a billion things to work on. I swear, we keep going smooth like this, Uncle Ed, and you're going to be better than you were at Equivalent Exchange."

"Oh, I'm counting on it." He stretched his arms foreword, rolling his shoulders back like he was sore. "If I don't die first."

My face flattened into kind of a frown. "Quit pouting. You expected relearning alchemy to be cake? Jeez. You're forty two. People are still having kids at your age."

Uncle Ed rubbed the back of his head, his eyes becoming tired. "I know."

I pointed and laughed like a total bully. Putting it as tactfully as pretty much possible, Aunt Winry had been freaking ecstatic when Uncle Ed had come home from Xing past three years ago completely healed. With Uncle Ed's condition all awful for six years, I took it sex hadn't been much of an option for those two for a while. According to my sister in-law, while I'd been spending months in the hospital recovering from getting skewered through the stomach, Uncle Ed and Aunt Winry had been making up for some seriously lost time. Well, that 'second honeymoon' of theirs had ended up producing my now two-year-old twin brother in-laws. Maes was so excited when he found out about his mom being all accidentally knocked up again, he was like, "That's amazing! You guys are like rabbits!" No woman but Aunt Winry would ever take that well. None.

"Uncle Ed?" I said.

"Yeah, kiddo?"

I bit my lip. "Selim can't make babies, right?"

Uncle Ed sank. He looked away. "That's right."

"He doesn't even know what a homunculus is," I said. "He doesn't know at all. Someday, he and Elycia are going to get married and I'm going to get a call from her one night and she'll be all crying and junk telling me she and Selim can't have babies."

"Can't change the way things are." He squeezed my shoulder. "Some of the best kids I've known are adopted."

I shrugged him off, rolling my eyes. "You're such a kiss-up, you know that?"

He laughed. "Come on. Let's make some progress on this damn project before my son and his groupies can get back to slow us down."

I threw him a chalk-eraser for the slate and went to the door. I looked over my shoulder. "Be right with you."

"Where you going?"

"Cafeteria," I said. "Got to get yesterday's trash before the janitors empty everything into the dumpster. We need more materials."

Maes and his 'groupies' got in just in time to see Uncle Ed transmute a half rotted tangerine into what I had begun to refer to as 'pulp pancakes.' Uncle Ed made them on a regular basis. If they hadn't been decomposable, I might've started a collection.

"Hey, Major Gorgeous!" said Maes coming in. All those stars on his shoulders made him look like such a freaking stiff. Kind of clashed with his crooked smile.

"They got taxidermists for fruit?" I said, looking at Uncle Ed's masterpiece in the middle of the slate.

"Um, last I checked, no," said Maes. He looked at his dad with a smirk. "Though, we could try fitting that into the budget this year."

"You did it?" said Uncle Ed.

The rest of our research team practically strutted in. Nine times out of ten, the higher ups had a private conference after presentations to come to an agreement about renewal of funds and whatever. Maes had a habit of impressing them into unanimous agreement on the spot. Our loser researchers probably thought they'd had something to do with it.

Uncle Ed gave Maes one of those congratulatory handshakes I'd kind of gotten used to but not so much. At home, he'd've probably given Maes a hug and ruffled his hair or something, but those two acted formal on duty. They even addressed each other by their military titles. Worse, Uncle Ed actually called my dad, 'Fuhrer,' instead of the regular, 'Idiot Colonel,' or, 'Bastard.' The only person in the building those two toned it down for was me. On that front, besides Selim, they were the only ones. My own parents called me 'Major Mustang.' I'd tried going by 'Elric' for a while after I got married, but it just got confusing with Uncle Ed working on my team every day, and, back then, Maes had still been a Major, so it got kind of ridiculous after it stopped being funny.

Maes was giving his dad the details of the presentation and all that stuff Uncle Ed secretly didn't care about but kind of cared about it when Maes said it, like putting his finger-paintings on the fridge. The others were kicking back and winding down what with being stressed about renewal all month. Probably longer, in Mikey's case. Michael Havoc was only twenty years old that year and he had the work ethic of a guy who'd been in a cubical long enough to turn into a robot. Way bizarre given his parents. I'd known him through my dad since forever. Even as a tiny thing, that guy had always been obedient all over the place.

Unless he was with friends. He seemed okay when he was with friends, like a person with social skills, but he was pretty picky with buds and I definitely didn't make the cut on that front. I was more like scary boss-lady who also happened to be scary girl who'd invade his house from time to time as a kid and played with his toys.

Somehow, within a few months of joining the service, me and Maes's research team had filtered down to a bunch of childhood friends of mine. Well, more like acquaintances. I'd always been kind of weirdo and my parents' friends were mostly normal, so their kids tended to prefer each other to freaky lab baby. Not that they hated me. We were more or less fond. Just not natural pals or anything.

Selim and Elycia were the only friends of the family who didn't seem to care about me being me, but, in all honesty, they had their own shares of weirdo in the blood. Lately, Elicia had been having me over for hours just to look at her daily scrapbooks of her and Selim being beautiful together. Mom had found out and told me to get out while I could. Whatever that meant.

Seriously, I figured my dad and his old team had pulled a bunch of strings to get their kids working together in some way or another. Couldn't blame them. They'd been a hell of a team back in the day. Before peacetime had turned them into pansies.

Besides Mikey, we had two other non-alchemists who basically got to do all the boring stuff I didn't want to do. Dad's war buddy, Mr. Charlie, had a son who was actually a few years older than me named Frank, like a hotdog. I said his parents should've named him Charles. At least middle named him, 'Incense.' He wasn't exactly a passionate researcher, but he was way impressed by Uncle Fullmetal and quickly had become doubly impressed with Maesy, so he stuck with us and researched his ass off when Maes gave the order. Not so much when anyone else did. I was his subordinate by one rank, anyway. He'd been with us from the beginning.

Private George Fuery had only joined a couple weeks ago. Freaking dang adorable. All cute and seventeen and called me ma'am like I was his mom. Mr. Armstrong's daughter, Olga, had joined our team a few months back; only a year older than Georgie but, like, over six feet tall with respectable muscles. She talked mostly in third person and offered me workout tips, so I totally liked her pretty great.

"Olga does not do alchemy," she'd said her first day on the team. "Olga upholds generations of Armstrong physical perfection."

Yep. That was her skill-set. Physical perfection.

There was only one other guy, a replacement for our last State Alchemist. The old one had gotten annoyed at me one too many times and moved over to Knox's team. Geezer. Not much more personable than me, but apparently enough to be preferable.

This new, replacement guy had been with us for a week and I'd barely gotten a word out of him. Dang. Even Maes couldn't get him chatty. Me and Maes had talked about it before bed a few nights back. Maes had said he'd seen in the paperwork that the Major had five dependents.

"He's thirty eight years old," Maes had said. "You don't start up a military career that late in the game with a wife and four kids at home unless you're hurting financially. He'll probably perk up after his first paycheck."

I looked over at the new guy from my littered slate table. Major Thomas Braddock. The others were heading out the door for lunch. Braddock was getting out paperwork to start on. I sucked my lip. Seriously? He was skipping again?

"Nina," said Maes, coming over. "What do you say I take you out for lunch? You and me."

"Nope," I said.

Maes groaned like a teenager. "Come on, baby. You've been working since seven thirty this morning. I want to celebrate. We got a raise. Did I tell you that?"

I snorted. "So? I just go over the budget if we run out anyway." I snuck another look at Braddock. Inking his pen. Signing and dating junk that had probably been some other slacker's responsibility to sign and date. I frowned. "Take your daddy, Maes. I'm on a roll."

Uncle Ed was standing by the door, waiting like he'd kind of expected me to bail and he wasn't unhappy about it. "Come on, kiddo. I could use some non-cafeteria food."

Maes pouted. "We can go the three of us."

I rolled my eyes and pulled out my secret weapon. "Babe, there's kind of snow in the clouds today. You make me go out there and it's not going to feel good." Snowy weather made my back ache worse than it did Uncle Ed's automail.

Maes got that sad look that I'd kind of been trying to avoid. He touched my cheek. "Sorry. Wasn't thinking."

"I'm so okay with it," I said. "Way too white out there for comfort, you get me?"

"Loud and clear," he said. He kissed my forehead. "Okay, Major Gorgeous, I'll see you in an hour tops."

"Famous last words." I kissed his mouth. "Congrats on the thing."

He laughed. Probably picked up on me not even bothering to be specific about all the 'things' about the renewal I should be congratulating him for.

They left. Braddock was working like we weren't even in the same room. I sucked my lip. What a nerd.

"Hey, Major," I said.

He looked up like turning on a switch. It was his, 'I'm not alone,' mode. "Yes, ma'am?"

"Don't call me that," I said. I folded my arms. "You're, like, a decade older than me and you'll probably be my superior by next year. Just no."

He blinked. "I apologize." He said it almost like a question.

I undid my arms and frowned. "Damn. You got me all sidetracked. I was going to say something to you." I sucked my lip. I looked up. "Oh, yeah, okay. So, get over here. No, wait. I'll come to you. No, wait. That's dumb. Get over here. Okay. I think so."

He got up slowly. "Um, ma'am, are you alright?"

"I'm going to try not to get sidetracked by you calling me stupid ma'am-banter again." I waved him over since he was standing there all uncertain like he wasn't sure it was appropriate or maybe I was intoxicated or both. I smiled. "Look, I'm so not drunk. I don't do that crap. Trust me. I can't hold half a beer down on my best day." I gestured to my body, my specially tailored uniform for scrawny pipsqueaks. "Like, I'm too small for a watered down girlie drink."

He was rigid. My expert skills at calming fears seemed to be doing the opposite on him. 'Nina Effect' was definitely nothing close to the Maes Effect. I rolled my eyes, letting out a harsh breath.

"Okay, Mister," I said. "Pretty much everyone else has a clue, so I'll just say it. I kind of got adopted out of a screwed up situation and it didn't exactly foster stellar communication skills. I'm kind of a total freak, so get used to it. Now get over here." I grabbed a squishy cherry tomato out of my bag of trash and circulated enough energy through it to grow a modest tomato vine with a couple semi-ripe fresh tomatoes showing. "I want to teach you how to feed your family out of a garbage can."

Braddock's eyes went from wide with wonder to heavy with hurt. He broke eye contact like a total self-conscious doofus.

I tossed the tomatoes back on the table. He looked up for a second like he wanted to go get it. I narrowed my eyes. "Quit with the awkward martyr act. I'm not five feet tall because of genetics, buster. I know what malnutrition looks like. You think your family likes you pulling this kind of crap for them? If you give a damn, you'll swallow up some pride and get the hell over here before people start getting back from lunch." I shuddered. "I hate it when they hover."

He was still for a second. Then, slowly, he smiled all soft and more or less pleasant. "So, you found me out. Military really takes background checks seriously."

"Psh, with Amestris at peace?" I said, guiding him to the slate. "The higher ups have got better to do than keep tabs and jazz."

He chuckled. "Like sitting in their chairs eating bonbons all day?"

"Dang. So you're actually cool," I said. "I was going to say braiding each other's hair, but that could get awkward for the baldies, you know?"

Braddock watched me all attentive and observant as I rubbed out the latest faulty circle and scrawled out a new one. I put a finger up at him for him to wait. I dumped a brown banana out of the trash into the center and activated it using just the chalk matrix, because using my wrists would totally be cheating. The banana vibrated for a second then exploded a little. I put up my finger at Braddock again and started wiping away the chalk for another try. I grabbed a mostly eaten apple and threw it in the center of a new circle. Instant pulp pancake. I put my finger up again.

"Um, ma'am?"

I gave him a look.

He cleared his throat. "Major Mustang?"

"Mm?"

He looked at the mess on the slate, then back at me. "You need a minute?"

"Nope," I said. "Been working on this three months. I'm so ready to be done it's not even funny."

He shrugged. "Could be a problem, considering it still ain't working yet."

"Tell me about it." I sighed. "Dang. Maes is so much better at this than I am."

"The Colonel?"

I had to think a second on what he was getting at. I nodded. "Oh, yeah. That. Yep. Maes is definitely a Colonel now. He gets all these promotions and junk. I can't keep up with him. In more ways than one. Obviously, much?" I puffed out a breath. "He's my husband, so I get to call him whatever the hell I want."

"You seem to apply that to a lot of people around here," he said. "Jeez. If Colonel Elric's better at whatever this is, why don't you ask him to take care of it? With all due respect, Major, that's what husbands are for."

"Yeah, you said it," I said. I put my elbows on the table and leaned on it, because I really was short enough for that to look not entirely awkward. "Unfortunately, my hubby understands this stuff about as well as anyone else does, which is zilch, just to be clear."

"The Colonel?"

"Yep."

"He's a master alchemist, ain't he?"

"Yep," I said. "He's dang incredible. Been transmuting since he was two years old. A billion different styles, too. He sees a new technique or a matrix he doesn't have yet and he just looks for an empty place on his long-ass gloves. He's got such a collection going, he's been putting like, straps and bracelets and junk with new arrays over the gloves with all the old ones. Just ran out of room, you know?"

"Damn," said Braddock. That tended to be the general reaction. He gestured to the slate. "And he can't do this? I'm sorry, ma'am. In that case, I'm going to have to say no one can."

"You really are a dumb pickle, aren't you?" I said. I laughed. "You know who I am, right? I'm the Soul's Circuit Alchemist. By most standards, which I'll say right here and now, I don't necessarily agree with, I pretty much surpassed the laws of Equivalent Exchange. What I do goes against every rule of alchemy ever written. The master alchemists are the ones who suck at my stuff the worst."

Braddock looked at me intentionally, pretty intrigued. "So, the Colonel heads a research team looking into a form of alchemy he 'sucks' at?"

"Oh, no," I said. "Maes doesn't suck at it. Are you kidding? He can't do it at all."

Braddock's eyes widened. "You serious? All that stuff at the presentation, you telling me he can't even do any of it? He talked like he could."

"Maes can do plenty," I said. "He's got his own contributions going separate from mine. Yeah, this team doesn't completely absolutely revolve around my stuff. My stuff's just the best ever. That's all."

"But," said Braddock. "I'm sorry, Major. I don't understand. How is he your commanding officer?"

I rolled my eyes. "Because, smart one, if we gave out leadership positions based on talent or potential or whatever, we'd be in a world of hurt. Maes is a mega great leader with a pretty rational head on his shoulders, mostly, as far as everyone knows. Well, I kind of know otherwise, but it's not enough to scare me. Usually. Sometimes he eats so much freaking cornbread I feel like he's going to die of some kind of freaking overdose. It's nasty."

"You seem to have a knack for bossing people around," Braddock said. "I could see you leading."

"Totally," I said. "But, like, just no. Bossy? Yes. Maes Effect? Not so much."

"Maes Effect?" he said. "You mean how he charms folks?"

My eyes widened. "Yes! See? You get it!"

"That what got you?" he said with a teasing smile.

"Not even a little," I said. "Seriously, if there's one thing I know about love, is it's a verb. Mama taught me that. Maes is dang amazing, but he didn't 'emotion' his way into my life." I shrugged. "Though, in all honesty, he can be a total woman if you give him the chance."

Braddock was laughing. "How old are you, if you don't mind me asking?"

"You're rude," I said. "I'm twenty four. I'm actually three years older than my husband. Not joking. Everyone thinks I'm joking when I say that the first time. Come on. Cuties can be cougars too."

"Twenty four, huh?" he said. "You got a head on your shoulders."

"I know," I said. "Don't tell anyone. It's simpler if they think I'm a doofus."

He snorted. "That's your excuse, huh?"

"You say, 'excuse.' I say, 'reason.' What's the difference? None. That's right."

"Not in politics, anyway," he said in a mumble like he was pretending to say something on the down low. He made kind of an apologetic, wince-face. "Guess I shouldn't be joking about our government around the Furher's daughter."

"You serious? Fuhrer's daughter just means I've got plenty of material to joke about." I stretched my hands and waggled the fingers. I looked at him. "Okay, Major. Let's do this thing. You and I are going to close this deal. Hell yeah!"

I handed him some latex gloves what with us handling nasty garbage and everything. He snapped them onto his big hands. His palms and fingers looked pretty calloused, I noticed. I wondered if he'd been doing regular manual labor before he got the State Alchemist title a week ago. Made the fact that he hadn't been eating all that much really quite sad in a bad way.

"Appreciate this, Major," he said, meeting eyes for a moment. He looked down and laughed. "Going through jobs, you learn pretty fast the guys that don't do the big work get assigned the small work."

He said it with a laugh and all, but I heard the hidden meaning in his words. My face straightened and so did my postured. I reached my hand to hold his shoulder all man-to-man.

"Got news for you, Braddock," I said. "My daddy's the Fuhrer, and, while they may not be wild about me, the counsel likes him pretty well. And Dad likes the people I like. Mostly. And I like you. You don't have to prove yourself on Nina's turf. Get it?"

He nodded. His smile was thin suddenly. Weary. He shrugged a shoulder. "Don't mean to worry. Just, peacetime doesn't provide much demand for State Alchemists, and the new guys are always the first to go if there are budget cuts."

"Ha!" I said. "Get that idea out of your head." I spun an apple core in my hand. "If they ever need to downsize this program, I'll be the first to go. Count on that."

Braddock was called the Bowman Alchemist. He specialized in long-range transmutations, similar to Aunt Mei's, but he used a bow and arrow rather than kunai, so he could transmute from way further distances then auntie did. Really, it was alkehestry he worked with. That was the root of it, whether he'd realized or not. He said he'd had a neighborhood friend immigrated from Xing when he was a kid and they'd played all kinds of stupid games with slingshots and frisbees and alchemy. That's how a guy who doesn't even graduate high school becomes a talented alchemist.

Well, Maes and Uncle Ed were kind of in the same boat on the education front, but they had their own reasons.

Point was, Braddock had learned alchemy from messing around with a friend who already knew it. He hadn't studied a single textbook until he'd started prepping for the State Alchemist exam a year ago. Most of the stuff he knew, he admitted, he hadn't even realized there was a name for. In other words, he was just like me.

So it wasn't exactly all that surprising when, about ten minutes into the two of us altering arrays, he put his hands down on the slate and the roasted sunflower seeds sprung into a little garden of sprouts. It probably would've grown further, but Braddock got spooked from it actually working and he took his hands off.

"What the?" I squealed. "Damn! What?"

He laughed, staring in awe at his hands. "Here I thought I was just humoring you. It really worked."

I grabbed his arm and shook him hard. "Well, duh! Jeez! That was all you, Braddock. Hope you know that. I never would've disconnected those outer lines. I mean, that makes sense, but I wouldn't've done it. I mean, because that's not how I do it. I like a free flow, but losers like you need limits and direction, so this new way totally rules! Why didn't Uncle Fullmetal figure that out? I get the others being clueless, but usually I can count on him to be insightful and junk."

"He's a master, right?" Braddock massaged his arm like I'd been rough on him. "Guess my cup's just a little emptier."

I looked around, checking for approaching ears. I whispered, "No telling, but you're officially side-kick number two."

"I'm honored." Braddock put out his hand for a shake. "And, while we're at it, let's keep the rest private too, Mustang."

"You mean the you being poor?" I said. "Or do I have to shut up about everything?"

"Just," he said, fighting a smile, "the poor thing."

"Gotcha."

He chuckled. "And we're not poor. Just been in a rough spot. We're getting out okay."

"I think so."

"Mind telling me how you knew?" he said. His eyes focused on mine. "Not to sound defensive, but I don't have memory of disclosing all that much about my personal life during certification."

"My husband," I said. "He said you had five dependents on your forms or something. Said thirty eight year old guys with wives and kids don't join the military unless they're hurting in their wallets. Maes isn't wrong all that often."

Braddock kind of frowned. "Oh."

"Chill," I said. "No one picks up on this stuff. Maes picks up on everything. No secrets with him."

"Sounds like my wife," Braddock said, all fond and distant. "Makes for an interesting marriage."

"Yep," I said. "Mostly because Maes can't read me worth a damn. I mean, sometimes he can, but not like with other people. Told you. I'm a freak. I'm kind of like a second language to him. Or third. I don't know. I think he speaks 'Maes Effect' as his first and then 'normal' as his second. He knows some Xingese from his auntie. I can't decide whether he speaks that better than 'Nina.' Well, actually, no one _speaks_ 'Nina.' Except me. Maes just understands it better than most people. That make sense? Guess maybe not so much. Whatever."

"Hey," Braddock said. He pointed to the trash. "Mind if I do it again?"

"Go for it!"

While he went through the garbage and transmuted it into a weirdo garden-orchard project, I went to the 'dud' bin and rescued some pulp pancakes. They would be redeemed! This was perfect. An hour into our renewed grant and we'd already had a breakthrough big enough to renew us next year and the year after. Maybe forever! Okay, maybe not, but it was nice to think big in my head.

Mikey, George, Olga, and Frank came in from lunch all together. Braddock stopped what he was doing—currently lopsided strawberries. Braddock and me just stood there for a moment, waiting for the others to notice. Oddly enough, but not all that odd, Frank noticed first. Probably because he was the first to pan over the room for his man-crush. He stood still, gaping a little.

"Major Mustang?" he said. "You made progress?"

"Hell, buddy-boy. We cracked it!" I pointed at Braddock with my thumb. "Turns out the new guy's way useful. Well, today he was, which is more than plenty as far as this crowd's concerned, am I right?"

"You," said Mike to Major Braddock, "cracked it?"

Olga Armstrong strode to the table and planted herself by Braddock's side. She stared at the sparse sprouts of resurrected food and nodded. "Good work. Olga enjoys strawberries. Antioxidants good for muscles."

Braddock gulped. "Thank you."

Private Fuery came to stand with me. "This is impressive, Major Mustang. I'm a little sad I didn't get to see you solve it."

"Aw, thanks, Furry!" I said.

Mike piped up, "It's _Fuery_, Major."

Fuery smiled at him. "I think she knows."

"Of course I do," I said. "I swear I only mess up on accident about a third of the time."

Braddock had everyone's attention pretty soon once I'd told them he was the one who figured it out and all. Well, he'd kind of only tweaked the final detail, but I was hungry and I didn't feel like taking credit. I grabbed a raison out of the trail-mix on George's desk and transmuted it into a conservative grape vine on the way to my desk.

"Now, how does she do that?" said Frank, sounding cheated more than admiring.

"You got me," said Fuery.

"Grapes grow from vines, right?" said Mike in a kind of totally audible whisper. "You can't grow grapes without vines. Raisons don't even have seeds!"

Braddock gave me a smile. "I think that's the point of this project. Doing the impossible."

I popped a purple grape in my mouth and said, "Bingo," before crunching down.

Frank looked to Braddock. "You can do that with the matrix right there?"

Braddock laughed. "Not _that_," he said, nodding at me and my grapes. "What she's got going is a little advanced for this array. I'm not sure _all_ the Major's skills can be put into a drawn matrix. Is that right, Mustang?"

"Jeez, I'd hope so," I said. Sure, I could make stuff grow, but I could drain the life out of it just as easily. Pretty important power like that not be made universal.

"Are those good?" said Olga, pointing to my snack.

"Actually," I said, "yes."

"Olga would like to try, if possible," she said.

"Ask Fuery," I said. "It was his raison. Past my jurisdiction, you know?"

George laughed all cute. "Go ahead. Pass me one while you're at it."

We were kind of being slackers since Maes and Uncle Fullmetal weren't back yet from their daddy-date yet. Finally, I pulled out my watch. I glared at the time. They'd been gone over two flipping hours. Two!

"What gives?" I mumbled to myself. "He said an hour tops. He usually doesn't go more than forty five minutes late with me."

Dang. I was kind of beginning to worry he'd gone someplace way fun without me.

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**Okay, that's all for this chapter for now. Hope it's got you excited! Don't fuss about Maes only making a brief appearance so far. He's coming back into the center of things at the second half of this chapter, and he pretty much stays in the center from there. Well, duh.**

**Challenge: Tell me how you saw Nina and Maes's lives turning out. Tell me what you'd put in their sequel if it were up to you. I really am curious. I may even take suggestions.**

******Give me some feedback and let me know you're out there! Until next time!**


	2. Major's for Life, part 2 of 2

**Author's Note: Okay, I get that this chapter could be considered its own, but I really think of it as more of a part two of the first chapter (as stated before) since they do a lot of exposition to kind of introduce where the characters are three years after FL. So, as promised, part two of the first chapter.**

**Update: AB has gone from 'on pause' to 'on hiatus'. My hard drive is yet to be transferred and I just don't feel like waiting around anymore to write. So, I'm going to take a break from AB for a while and focus on FL2. I'll start posting AB again as soon as the hard drive is recovered. Until then, enjoy FL2! Keep me posted on your thoughts and let me know you're out there, because I can pretty much guarantee I'm as excited as any of you about this sequel :D**

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Chapter 2: Major's for Life, part 2/2

Lieutenant Colonel Frank Charlie took it upon himself, as the highest ranking officer present, to tell us we couldn't go home until Colonel Elric came back and dismissed us. Seriously, I would've just ditched anyway, but I felt pretty bad leaving everyone behind at Maes's mercy. They really didn't know how he worked quite all the way. Maes was super responsible, super accountable, super efficient, and, on super special occasion, super impulsive.

It took a lot to get him to do stuff without warning like I did on a regular basis, but if Maes had come across something seriously serious or had a beautiful random idea while out with his dad, there was a steady chance he wasn't going to remember his subordinates waiting at his office for a substantial while. And we had hours before we were allowed to go home without dismissal.

So, I occupied our team while we waited; like a kindergarten teacher keeping kids calm during a lockdown.

I handed Olga a notebook of plain paper and a pencil that was probably Mike's since I'd stolen it off his desk.

"Since Maes and Uncle Fullmetal missed the grand unveiling," I said, "why don't you try capturing the highlights, huh? You can draw stuff you remember, but it would be way cool if you drew stuff you weren't around for, like how you imagined it going down. Make it exciting. Like, this took three months." I grinned, bending my neck to try to look her in the eye past those long, shaggy bangs of hers. "The art of portraiture has been passed down the Armstrong family for generations, but you'd be their first illustrator, correct?"

Olga flipped open the notebook, squaring her broad shoulders. "Correct. Olga will do this." She got to work.

"Braddock," I said, pointing at him where he stood at the slate table. "Transmute some cute little pots, huh? Get creative. We're going to grow the higher ups some thank-you pressies with our new research. Not even a day since their decision to renew our certification and we're already showering them with gifts. How's that for instant gratification?"

Braddock chuckled. "On it, Major." He took a plastic fork and a crunched soda can out of the trash bag and looked to me. "You said to get creative?"

"The creativest ever!" I said.

Braddock turned to Olga. "Hey, Private Armstrong?" She looked up and he smiled. "You mind multi-tasking? Thinking it might be a nice touch to put the officials' faces on their pots and I could use an illustrator's touch."

Now, that's what I was talking about! I looked to cute little George Fuery and said, "I got a mission for you, Private."

He perked up. "Yes, ma'am?"

"Go around the building and ask the counsel members' secretaries if there's anything our guys are allergic to or hate or something." I shrugged. "If we give them something they don't like, they will honestly think I did it on purpose. No joke. Seriously, you need to find out for me."

He nodded. "Yes ma'am." Fuery was adorable and the secretaries all wanted to give him cookies.

"Mikey," I said. "I'm kind of tempted to give you a fun job, but you seem to genuinely enjoy writing up reports and this is the biggest breakthrough we've had since Uncle Ed pulled off my 'Exchange' theory, so I'll let you have the honor of writing it in the paperwork."

He smiled big and said, "Yes, Sir!" What a total nerd. All grateful about paperwork. Pretty sweet.

I turned to that Lieutenant Colonel Franky and fought a kind of mean laugh. He was rigid in his seat. I could tell he didn't like me giving the orders. He wasn't a snob about rank or anything, not like my dad. He usually didn't have much of an issue with me getting all 'insubordination' on his ass. He just respected Maes too much to feel comfortable with me taking over in our commander's absence. It was like Frank thought he was failing Maes by doing anything whatsoever without consulting him first.

"So," he said, meeting my eyes. "What do I get to do?"

"You?" I said. I hugged my arms. "You get to track down my husband." I felt my face sink against my control. I looked away. "Not that I'm worried or anything, but he's an hour and a half later than he said he'd be. He usually wises up and calls to apologize sometime before the forty five minute mark, you get me?"

Frank nodded. His eyes seemed serious, like he knew I was being serious. I'd learned pretty quick with Frankfurter that he liked me pretty okay on the whole, but he _trusted_ my serious side. I'd learned a while after that Frank didn't extend his trust to just anybody. So, basically, when I was serious with him, stuff got done.

As he slipped his arms into his black coat, he asked in a low tone, "And what will you do, Major Mustang?"

He asked it more like he was asking a partner in crime than his subordinate. I looked at the door. "Well," I said. "I got a pretty nasty phone call from the Fuhrer this morning after he got wind on me planning on skipping the presentation. And then I sort of skipped anyway. So, I should probably go give him some hugs and kisses so he knows it's not his fault and stuff. They always think it's their fault, you know?"

Frank shrugged on the coat and stepped around the desk. "Not to be rude, Mustang," he said, "but would it really kill you to add some, 'Yes, sirs,' and, 'No sirs,' to your vocabulary? You seem to have room for just about everything else."

I walked with him to the hall. "Wow. Not rude at all."

"Got news for you," he said. He'd changed countenance now that we were walking the hall alone together. A little bit of attitude. "Mincing words isn't your strongest point, but it isn't mine either. But I do it, because that's just what you got to do around here. I know you've had your struggles, and I'm not saying to man up about it, but I'm not sure you realize the kind of trouble you put your advocates through. All the Court Marshall's the Fuhrer's had to repeal for you, all the higher ups he's had to talk down, the diplomats you've rubbed the wrong way since you joined, I'd be a little pissed myself."

"Sure," I said. "I piss myself off all the time."

He frowned. "You almost got discharged this morning. The Counsel talked about it right in front of us. They asked us each about it and we had to rack our brains, one by one, to make you sound as valuable as we could without owning up to your downfalls."

"Downfalls?" I said. First time I'd heard that one. To my face.

"You better thank Colonel Elric when he gets back," said Frank. "If it weren't for him, you'd be packing your stuff. They'd decided your 'irrational behavior' had become a danger to the military. The Fuhrer had to sit there and take it because there was nothing left to defend you with that wouldn't look like bias. You were gone, Major."

"You going to tell me what Maes did?" I said. "I'm way curious."

Frank looked not quite pleased about how light I seemed to be taking his warning. Key word there being, _seemed_.

Frank met my eyes sternly as we continued down the hall. "Major Mustang knows her limits and she strives to respect them. It's because of that that I believe her to be the most rational person in my acquaintance. The only thing that could make her dangerous is if she conducted herself any differently."

I blinked. "I'm going to assume you were paraphrasing Maes on that. You can't pull off third-person like Armstrong."

He sighed angrily. "Listen, Mustang, I'm trying to be as nice about this as possible, but you've been causing a lot more conflict than I think you realize. This country's gone through a lot to get to the place it's in and it deserves better than soldiers who encourage other soldiers to disregard their government. I've seen you work for three years. I know what you can do. If you got your act together, you could do a hell of a lot of good. To be honest, it's not the insubordination that's disgraceful. It's the fact that you make such a point to underachieve after men died to give our generation the opportunity to be something better."

Wow. Mouthful much? He was panting. Glaring. Fists clenched. I swallowed, because he'd gotten me angry and he didn't realize yet how much he preferred flippant Nina to angry Nina. Okay, so he wanted to play it that way. I kept my eyes down. My heart pounded.

"Frank," I said. "You don't get it. Underachieving is the best thing I've ever done for this country."

"You think so?" He was too pissed to deescalate without a fight.

I took a steady breath. I reached into my pocket and pulled out one of the sunflower seeds I'd planned on teaching my dad how to transmute into a flower once he'd forgiven me. In a moment, I gave life to it, circulated just enough for it to sprout into a stem with a baby bud. I let a burst of energy into the plant and the bud opened, way tiny for a full grown sunflower, but beautiful and warmly golden all the same. I met Frank's eyes.

"Giving life to things that are running out of it," I said, "is something worth sharing."

I kept my eyes on him as my fist clenched around the flower. I felt it waste and shrivel as I broke the circuit, blocked the input and let the flow of the Dragon's Pulse carry the life left in the flower back into the earth through the open output. Frank's eyes were locked downward at the dead flower in my hand. I kept my eyes on him. I knew what death looked like. I wanted to watch what he looked like as he saw it for the first time.

"Taking life," I said, "is what men died to end so our generation could be something better. In other words, Frankfurter, underachieving is pretty much the best I can do. Maes wasn't kidding when he said it'd be dangerous if I quit holding out on the military." I put life back into the flower and I watched it bloom bigger and brighter than before. I smiled. "Though, I do have a pretty massive problem with him telling those jokers _I_ would be dangerous. It's the rest of you we'd be worrying about if anyone else got ahold of this junk." I caught his eye. "Understand?"

He was straight faced and tensed, because he knew he'd been let in on something not everyone was fully let in on. Duh. Seriously though, Frank was the guy to trust with stuff if you wanted to trust someone and he was definitely the one to convince otherwise when he found a reason not to trust you.

"I apologize, Mustang," he said. He also had a strange comfortability with admitting he'd been wrong. "I spoke out of ignorance."

"Yeah, duh," I said. "That's how we like to keep it, yes?"

"I'm a little disappointed in myself." He looked to the side. "Colonel Elric…I thought he was climbing to the top to succeed the Fuhrer. He's standing out to take the heat off of you?" He was looking at my revived wonder-flower.

"Don't be disappointed in yourself," I said. "It's totally sissy. And, for the record, Maes being Fuhrer? Ha. Ha. Ha. He cares way too much about his family to put his country first. Not happening. He'll tell you himself if you ask."

"Guess I should've figured that one out, too." He kind of almost smiled some. "Thank you, Major. It's not every day I get to hear new information directly from you."

"Wait, like before Maes tells you first?" I laughed. "He's such a flipping gossip. What a woman. I swear."

"I was referring to briefings."

"Well, duh." I handed him the flower. "For you."

He took it. "Thanks."

"I don't want to carry it."

"I figured as much."

We got to the elevators where the hall diverged to the exit on the left. Time to part ways. I pressed the 'up' button and waited.

"Catch him if you can," I said.

"Right." He gave me an appreciatory nod. "Good luck."

"Mm." I sighed. "And Frank?"

He paused on his way toward the exit. "Yes?"

I crossed my arms and stared at the gray elevator. "I underachieve for the good of mankind, but I do the insubordination stuff as an unfortunate side effect of being me. You bitch to me about it again, I'll transmute your face to your butt."

"Yes, ma'am," he said sharp.

I snorted. People had been calling me ma'am since my dad had become Fuhrer when I was seven years old. Had gotten old fast. Not when people said it like Franky had just then, though.

I rode that elevator up to the top floor. Daddy's office was top, obviously. Had to do junk like that for status's sake. Sucked for my mom. She'd always been into going by the stairs. They'd remodeled the command centers across Amestris to accommodate all the booming research programs, so Central's building was currently towering at seven stories, almost two times the height it'd been twenty years ago. Thing was, I was fairly certain my mom walked the stairs anyway half the time.

As I walked the hall, it was pretty easy to tell which of the people who passed me by were friends and which were not so much. I'd gotten kind of infamous around the building as either the soldier who didn't care about politics, which a lot of people liked tons, or the soldier who didn't care about anything, which some people considered kind of a disgraceful issue with my character overall.

I'd asked Maes once, "How long you figure before they wise up and realize I care about _everything_?"

He'd grinned, ruffled my mop, and said, "You're great, you know that?" and that had been it. I was pretty certain he hadn't really gotten what I was trying to say, but that was a regular occurrence with me with just about everybody. Maes got credit for understanding half of my gorgeous-dumb babble.

I got a stiff salute from a sergeant, the one with dermatitis and green highlights in her hair. She was so freaking cool-looking. It was a shame I'd had to purposely forget her name and ignore her stupid guts in retaliation to her hating me and all. She'd begun our first conversation in the copy room with a size-up stare and a following stink-eye. Didn't know why. She was nice to people when I'd see her before she saw me. Like, she loved Maes, and he'd complemented the size of her chin mole the first time they'd met.

Thing was, this extreme-looking sergeant wasn't anything special as far as workplace relationships went for me. There was no such thing as regular acquaintances in my book. None of that colleague, co-worker, comrade bull. It just didn't come natural. People all had their personal takes on me and even the shallowest relationships with people I'd only passed in the halls and never said a word to, the people I'd probably never say a word to and would definitely never say a word to me, had some complexity between us.

Frank Charlie had been out of line trash talking my so-called underachievement, but there was serious truth to the qualm that my presence in the military had been something of a disturbance. From the beginning, it had been black and white in all the wrong ways. People loved me or hated me. People who were neutral just hadn't heard enough or seen enough. It was simple as that.

Mister Alex had gushed tears of respect when he'd seen me all certified and junk and, before he'd transferred east, he had let me hitch rides on his shoulder down the halls. That was back when my spine was still mildly fresh from getting messed up in Xing and the cane had to come out every time I overdid it. First time Armstrong had seen that cane, he'd sniffled like a touched pregnant lady and held his arms out in an offer to lift me, like he'd been doing since I was three years old. It was crap like that that made me love soldiers.

Then there was Focker, for example. Okay, sorry, but his name really sounded close to something else that, in my opinion, defined him just fine. He was this tall, strapping, middle-aged, square who shushed me every time I talked too loud in the library or in meetings that I hadn't been invited to. Plus, he had a weird haircut. All dark and coarse and trimmed flat at the top like a freaking hedge. So, yeah, of course I called him General Mother Focker sometimes when I greeted him. And, come on, who wouldn't've told the ambassador of Creta the General's name was pronounced, "Fuh-kar," right before the two had gone on live radio together to announce the new trade agreement to Amestris? I mean, the ambassador had such a thick accent already, no one would've known the mispronunciation wasn't an accident if I hadn't taken credit a week later when I'd overheard some PR folks stressing on how to smooth the broadcast over.

I'd tried behaving. I really had. Problem was, I hadn't really known to try in the first place until my dad had _told_ me I'd been misbehaving. People would just say stuff like that, stuff like I'd done something inappropriate, I'd been disrespectful, I'd crossed some line. Some line I hadn't seen and still didn't see, and kind of never would see. I just didn't see it.

Growing up, I'd stayed in this weird little mold, not even. It was more like a tube, going down it, contained and pushed ahead at a set pace that was comfortable and boring and bound not to last. I'd been controlled by some kind of fear, something that had come out of the abuse and horror from the lab during my first three years of life, something that lingered even though most of the memories from that place had been blocked out by my mind for, like, forever and a day. I'd been calm, mostly, and pretty much compliant until I was twenty one. It'd been my natural state of being, just to survive, to thrive in surviving under my parents' love and protecting.

Then I'd met Maes and we'd gone on our little adventure thing and I'd completely blown my lid. All that unresolved stuff I'd blocked out, all the stuff that had been holding me in place, guiding me through that tube, broke away. I'd resolved it. I'd come out on top.

And now I was floundering around, shooting from one place to the next at will, because without the tube to guide me, all there was was empty space waiting for me to run across freaking barefoot. That was a good thing! Problem was, I'd found, people didn't see it like that.

They saw the minor detail that, since I'd had that stupid tube to guide my actions all my life, I'd never really learned to guide myself like most kids did growing up. So, when the guidance went away, I didn't turn normal or anything, because there was no normal to go back to. I'd never developed that kind of thought process and I'd finally accepted that I never would. I had my own. It was just too late to relearn how to think. Honestly, I didn't want to. Maes had said he didn't want me to either.

My dad had said the same, but I had a pretty good idea that he didn't know what all that entailed. Pretty clear given that I was on my way to his office to apologize for missing a meeting I'd categorized as less important to my research thing, what with me being on kind of a roll. And that had paid off, yes? I touched the sunflower seeds in my pocket. Yes!

"Major Mustang!" greeted an elderly secretary from her desk through an open door. She smiled pearly white and waved.

I paused at the doorway. "I love it up here," I said. "The halls always have people in them and the doors are open sometimes."

"Not that way down under?" she said, shuffling papers.

"Researchers, lady," I said. "Not politicians like up here. We're pretty much some of the most socially awkward folks you'll ever meet. Like, no joke, Furry Fuery-cakes keeps a legit asthma inhaler in his desk. We're nerds. It's beautiful."

"Hm," said the secretary. "I don't know. Sounds like you researchers just like to keep the fun behind closed doors. You don't fool me for a second, Mustang."

"Yeah!" said a young gal in a blue receptionist skirt, stepping into view to stand in front of granny's desk. She shot me a grin. "Can't help but be a party with you around, Major."

I didn't even recognize her, but she knew me, so I smiled back all huge and greeting-ful. "Dang, then the world must be a pretty boring place when I'm not around, huh?"

They laughed. These were primed examples of soldiers who liked me. As soon as I went on, they'd go back to overly formal and military civilness, but, until then, I'd get their brightest smiles of the workday.

Mom had talked about it once. "That's how it's always been with you, Nina," she'd said. "Ever since you were a little girl. When you ran and hid, people either became offended by your aversion or they stuck around long enough for you to come out."

Of course, my mother was under the common 'mom' impression that no one could help but love her child as much as she did if they just got to know me. Ha. Focker? No.

"You're here for the Colonel?" asked the blonde gal.

I frowned. "That husband-guy? No, he's out with his dad having an extended victory lunch or something. I'm here to see King Daddy. Missed a meeting on purpose. Not really grateful to the old man, I guess, considering how bad I screwed up last week."

"Oh?" said the blonde girl.

I shrugged. "Kind of got unofficially Court Marshaled for unofficially 'lying' to Uncle Ling about Major General Kasey's age. I mean, she's a woman! Women are usually flattered when people round down. How was I supposed to know she'd lose experience points with Xing's stupid counsel? I mean, Ling's a fifteen-year-old emperor! Are those stiffs seriously going to use lack of _age_ as a legitimate argument for denying Amestrian military officers honorary dual citizenship? I'm sorry, but if that's how it is, she's better off without them. I mean, have you ever tried chopsticks? I swear, I had to impale half the stuff I ate. I wouldn't take dual citizenship if they begged me to." Which Uncle Ling kind of had a few times already. I'd been like, yeah, sorry, but last time I visited, I got kidnapped for two months, lost my brain to bonker-nuggets, and got skewered by a freaking terrorist. Not chomping at the bit to take up semi-permanent residence in your beautiful little country, homunculus boy.

"I wouldn't hold your breath on her thanking you later," said the old secretary quietly, an amused smile on her red mouth.

"Yeah, well duh," I said. "It's not a present if they have to thank you for it later."

They blinked like I'd said something confusing. Blondie looked to the side for a sec with a rippled brow. She looked back at me.

"You said Colonel Elric was out?" she said.

"Yep," I said, and I had to remind myself that I'd been the one to tell him to leave me out.

She seemed all thrown off. "Well, that was fast. Though, the Colonel does seem to have a knack for getting things done quickly."

I frowned. "Hm?"

"He was just here," she said, looking more confused. "He passed by less than an hour ago. I thought there might've been a meeting, you know? So many officials gathering in the Fuhrer's office like that."

"It is recertification day," said granny.

An hour ago? She considered that quick? That had to mean whatever meeting had been going on had looked 'big deal' material, and I knew full well the recertification stuff was already a done deal.

_They'd decided your 'irrational behavior' had become a danger to the military._

I swallowed. "You sure it was Maes?"

"Well, yes," said blondie. "He stopped at the door to say hello."

I bit down on my lip. "Mother Focker!"

Granny kind of let out this reflex-laugh that she quickly stifled with her hand to her mouth. I shook my head.

"I gotta go. Like, now." I scampered away from the door before they could ask what was wrong or why I seemed surprised or whatever. I'd blown it, hadn't I? They'd reconsidered the extent of my usefulness and Maes was probably advocating my case at that very moment. And when they asked about the progress of my research, he'd have to get around the past three months of major burning through funds and getting nowhere. Because he didn't know about my breakthrough yet! Dang! Bad, bad, bad timing!

I got to the door to my dad's office in a pant. Hadn't really realized I'd been rushing so bad until I stopped with my boots skidding. I stood practically toe to toe with the bodyguard posted outside Daddy's door. Yep, a guard outside a meeting meant business.

"Dang it!" I said. I fought a wince as a steady ache went down the small of my back and lingered there in a warm cluster. I rubbed next to my spine with the base of my palm. "Ow. Running in clunky boots with all that damn snow out to get my joints really does a number."

The guard guy gave me a sympathetic smile. It was Phil, my absolute favorite bodyguard person of all time ever. He'd been the one with me when I'd first met Maes. He'd been the one to kind of assist in Maes kidnapping me because Phil was just cool and understanding like that. He'd eaten noodles with me on my front stoop when I was bummed about life and I'd gotten his two adult daughters to start talking to him again after I'd run into the two in a boutique and invited them to my wedding on account of their dad being the best ever. Aside from Maes, Uncle Ed, and Selim, there was one other person who called me by my first name in the workplace, but only when we were more or less out of earshot and wouldn't get looks.

"You alright, Nina?" he asked all quiet because he knew I wasn't wild about the 'young veteran' cliche. He looked funny when he worried, because he was the shiny kind of bald that made his forehead just run into his scalp with no definite end and his brow-wrinkles made some kind of temporary boundary between the two.

I sighed, dropping my hand from my back. "Something's going down, huh?" I nodded at the door.

He nodded. "But, you're alright?"

I cracked a smile. "Completely. Thanks for asking." I pointed to the door a little more decisive this time. "They are very much about to fire me and I have total evidence that they need to keep me on the team, so I need to get in. Now. Don't distract me."

He sank. "This is orange level clearance."

I gulped. Orange? It usually went yellow, green, blue, brown, orange, with red as the top where the Fuhrer got to hand pick the people he wanted in the meeting. Orange was highest classification a person could get into with a clearance badge. I was blue level. I had thought Maes was too.

"Did they," I started. I bit down on my lip. "Did they figure something out, do you think? About, you know, me and my stuff?" Phil didn't know details, but he knew I had 'stuff.'

"I'm level green, ma'am," he said. In other words, they really hadn't let him in on a single thing.

"So," I said. "You going to let me in?"

He looked frowny. "I'll need to see your identification."

"You know I'm blue," I said. I met his small eyes. "So, you going to let me in?"

He closed his eyes for a moment. "You'd be giving me gray hairs if I didn't shave my head."

I smiled. "Yeah, sure, Philly. _That's_ why you're bald."

He smiled back and stepped aside from the soundproofed door, totally risking his job for my sake for the zillionth time it seemed. As I tested the knob, I gave him a punch in the arm that said, "Thanks bunches, guard man."

The knob clicked open. I took a breath and sighed it out. "Cross your toes and say a prayer." I walked into the room and shut the door behind me.

There was a long, rectangular mahogany table in the middle of Dad's big-ass office. I was used to a long table, but not this long. It occurred to me that there had been another table brought in and pushed against the usual one to make a longer table, and not just to accommodate the fifteen or so big shots around it. No, there was stuff on those tables. Stacks of papers, official-looking stationary with calligraphy and stuff, manila folders, files, maps. Maps! There was, like, five maps spread over the table, like placemats and tablecloths under the stacks of papers. Then, in the very middle where the two tables met to become one, there was a giant map flattened out, a map of the world, pretty much. Wide, colored, labeled, and covered in markers representing different countries' flags.

It was over this map that Maes was leaning, his eyes scanning, darting. I could see in an instant. He was doing that thing that he always did, the thing where his mind worked so fast that his body could barely keep up. His pupils would practically vibrate from looking back and forth so fast, like some kind of freaky nervous tick. He could read an entire novel in the course of about an hour, sometimes less, depending on how much he wanted to savor it. He'd just shrug and say, "I've got a good memory," like that even made sense.

My dad was standing across from Maes, dark eyes on the map, arms folded tight. Mom was to Dad's side, as usual, looking all serious with a black clipboard in front of her. Uncle Ed was slouched in a chair next to Maes, arms overlapped slack, looking overall displeased. What the heck was he doing there? Uncle Ed's clearance was as blue-level as mine was!

The rest of the people at the table were all way high ups, just like one would expect at a freaking level orange, all looking about as displeased as Uncle Ed, but not with the same sulky flare he'd seemed to have mastered. Of course, Focker was there, all the way at the end, thank God. Everyone was being quiet. Some looking at papers and stuff, some writing stuff down and whispering to each other, Major General Kasey standing to the side of Dad's desk whispering into a phone like the moment needed to be quiet. Mostly eyes were on Maes and the map. Dang, that's where my eyes would've been.

I stepped closer, because no one had noticed me come in. That was my habit, sneaking in without meaning to. Mom said I'd been abused into being quiet as a kid and it had never worn off. Well, in one way, at least.

I stopped a few respectful paces from the level orange table, put my fist to my mouth in the classic stance, and cleared my throat. Eyes shot up like a wave.

"Um," I said. "Just so we're clear before I high-tail it, this meeting wasn't about firing me, was it? Because I totally just busted in to tell you we'd made that breakthrough people had been saying we weren't ever going to be making. So, I guess firing me now makes sense since you got what you wanted out of me and all as far as you guys know, but I figured it was only fair that you have all the facts before you seriously discussed, am I right?"

They'd paled. Every single one of them. My dad looked sick to his stomach, eyes staring and strained. My mom was just frozen and Uncle Ed was squeezing his stump like my presence made it suddenly ache. Focker and Kasey in particular looked ready to pull a gun on me and kill me slow.

Maes looked the palest to me, though. Not because he really was palest. It was because he never got pale when I messed up military-wise. He never even flinched. He usually smiled like I was a good person or something. He called me Major Gorgeous. But he'd paled this time, blood drained even from his lips, making him look sickly. I knew what sickly Maes looked like. His breaths seemed shallow and tight, like he was panicking or something. I would probably not've noticed the intensity of that split moment of silence if it hadn't been for that white, bug-eyed look on Maes's face.

His hand touched over his chest lightly, right where his automail apparatus had been fused from age twelve to eighteen, an unconscious gesture he did when he felt threatened.

"Major Mustang," he said, tone firm and humorless. "Your presence was not requested. Leave immediately."

"So," I said, "it's not about me?"

"Not yet," Uncle Ed mumbled.

"Let yourself out, Major Mustang," said Dad all sharp and authoritative. His eyes were glaring like I'd done something infinitely wrong. I couldn't recall ever getting that from him before, the icy stare. A little disorienting. I could tell he was stifling the urge to yell as he said, "Now."

I got a brief look at Mom's face and saw she was almost as peeved to see me as my dad was. I sucked my lip, feet shuffling back toward the door.

"Gotcha," I said. I cleared my throat before reaching for the knob. "By the way, sorry about skipping the presentation, Daddy."

Dad stood straighter, and I could tell he was deciding whether it was worth it now to correct me on referring to him on informal terms. I beat him to it and corrected myself.

"Fuhrer Daddy." I gave a brief smile to the room and twisted to open the door before they could not-smile back.

Mistake if there ever was one. As my body twisted to reach the knob, I felt that familiar tight pang in the midpoint of my spine. I heard the unwelcome pop of vertebrae, the fraction of relief and then the intense ache that followed as everything around it realized that loosening it had shifted things out of alignment. Again.

"Damn it," I hissed.

I balled my fists at my sides, teeth grinding, quenching whines of pain. I swallowed. I forced my hand up then let it fall back to my side when the movement shot pain into my pelvis—how did it even get there? I grabbed the knob with my other hand, not as painful as the right, and turned it, the rotation of my arm hurting a little more than it should've.

I heard a chair scoot and took a glance over my shoulder to see Maes had turned his whole body to face me from the table. His eyes were narrowed like he was either catching on or already had.

"What is it, Major?" he said.

So, he was still calling me military jumbo? He hadn't realized, then.

Talking always hurt when this happened. My ribs had to expand to accommodate the air needed to push words out. "Embarrassed," I managed. That had to be enough explanation. Girls got all kinds of awkward from being embarrassed, right?

"Embarrassed?" he said.

"Mm," I said. I bit my teeth and pulled open the door. Sound proofed. Extra thick, extra heavy. It hurt to pieces, having to counter its weight with my body in order to swing it open all casual so Maes wouldn't notice it didn't feel particularly good to do things all casual.

I slipped out. I let it swing shut behind me. The latch clicked into place. I swallowed hard, sidestepped next to Phil, and let myself lean against the wall.

"Nina?" he said.

"Ow," I practically mouthed.

"What is it?"

I closed my eyes, repeated in my head the words Maes's parents used to recite to him during a bad storm. Not your pain, Maes. Separate yourself from it. Never seemed to work for him, but it did me alright. Of course, I'd had a history of dissociative episodes for a couple months there, so separating in general was more natural for me.

Phil rested his heavy hand on my shoulder. "Miss Mustang."

Instant pain. My eyes scrunched. I jerked and that hurt worse. "Jeez, Phil! Move off! I threw my back out. Happens all the time. Just give me a minute."

I sank onto the ground and curled my knees to my chest. It hurt to stretch my spine like that, but sometimes things sorted themselves out if I gave them a chance.

"Soon as Knox figures out his scar tissue research," I mumbled to myself, "I'm getting a new back."

Phil was kneeling beside me. "You're too young to be talking that way, Miss Nina."

I opened my eyes to him and smiled at that worried, wrinkle-browed look on his face. His small green eyes peered at me, warm like wet grass in Xing. Grass without blood. None of that psychobabble junk.

"I'm so sorry, Phil," I said. I looked at my knees. "Really completely."

"What for?"

"Pretty sure they're going to fire you this time," I said. I could practically feel him bristling beside me. I risked the pain of reaching my hand onto his. "Think I just walked in on a war meeting. But I'll make it up to you in noodles soon as I'm out of prison. I swear."

He sandwiched his hands over mine. His voice was thin. "I'll hold you to that, Nina."

* * *

**Aw! Nina and her bald guard guy! Anyone remember him from the beginning of FL? Well, somehow he's still around after doing Nina's bidding for three years running XP**

**REPLIES!**

Pockychan:Haha, you're so welcome! I kinda made my own day :P

Silverpedals1402: Given that Maes is Maes, I don't see how a family could be avoidable for those two, haha.

RoseblossomWarrior: Yeah, it's surreal, right? FL seemed so done for months.

mixmax300: Yes! Writing toddler Nina has been such an experience. It made me want to write grown up Nina on a whole new level :D

pitstop96: Ha, Nina's kind of a weird good samaritan like that. Poor baby. She does her best.

KTrevo: Yeah, well, I couldn't wait for it to be updated regularly either, obviously XD

PhantomhiveHost: Indeed! I'd imagined stuff like Nina getting pissed at Maes for putting her through childbirth, then, a couple months later, she'd be like, "I want another."

DanniMaeAnime92: I can hardly wait for you guys to see where it goes, either!

author12306: Thank you for noticing my scrapbook reference :P Yeah, I'd kinda imagined them retiring after a few years of progress as well, but this plot had other ideas.

awesomenaruto: YESSS! Don't you worry. I've been waiting quite a few fanfictions to write me a powerful Ed. He's got plans in store.

**Fanart galleries have been increasing, mine and my collection from fans. Check 'em out if you feel so inspired! Link on profile.**


	3. Stagnant

**A/N: So, um, big news and changes and stuff. THE GOOD KIND! It's a bit much to explain in a nutshell...So, yeah, last Thursday I had a magazine signing for some stuff I got published in my junior college's literary mag and I won first place for prose, and I'd had something published in the magazine's debut last year as well (if anyone remembers), so I decided the next day I was finally ready to try getting a contract with a publishing company so I can submit actual novels instead of just short stories (prose) and poems. Mm-hm.**

**I'm writing a novel. From scratch. I've already had a series in progress for a while now, but I want to start my publishing career with something simpler that can stand on its own. I'd planned on writing it in the course of a week to get me motivated, but just no. I could've, but it's Spring Break and my sister's been in town and stuff. I'll write later.**

**I'll probably submit to a certain company I have in mind within the next four months. I will keep you posted, because they have a website where they take submissions to be read and rated by users before being considered for publication, which would mean you guys would get to read it for free before it's published.**

**Yeah, so, a lot of you have asked me to keep you updated in case I ever get anything published. There you go.**

**Aside from that, I do plan to continue fanfiction on the side, because it's been my best resource of practice out there and I just love it and love my diehard followers! Plus, it does magic for writer's block. Plus, corn.**

**Thank you for all the support, guys! Like, it's been a blessing getting to know my audience on such a personal level. My experience is that most authors' direct feedback from readers tends to be limited once under contract. This has been fun and I'm excited for it to continue and expand.**

**So, I'll tell you who to look up when the time comes, because you don't know my full name yet o.O That's right! My first name is not, in fact, Author! Actually, I guess my full name's kind of ordinary by most standards, but I consider it awesome cuz it's all mine.**

**Okay, onto the real stuff. Note: 'Axis & Allies' is an old board game, to anyone who's too cool to know that.**

* * *

Chapter 3: Stagnant

I'd been lying flat on my stomach on the fluffy bedroom rug for a while. No telling how long, really, only that the sun had been about gone when I'd flopped down and the stars were shining on pitch black now.

I was waiting for my back to stop throbbing. Usually it would've by now. I mean, jeez, it'd been three years. But, then again, usually I didn't make a habit out of overdoing it multiple times in a row. It wasn't my fault. After I'd gotten expelled from the orange level meeting in my dad's office, I'd taken a minute to recover from throwing out my back, then waited another few minutes to find out if my dad was going to send someone to make me keep my mouth shut about whatever it was I'd walked in on. It'd seemed like something you'd keep quiet about.

I had realized after a while that they were treating this as more of a close call than an actual incident, which was good concerning Phil keeping his job. After I'd made that realization, I'd eventually gone back to my team's room on the third floor. From there, I'd faked it and tried really hard not to twist or bend over too far in case my back decided to throw itself out again.

Frank had gotten back an hour later with no trace of Maes. Duh. And I'd told him not to worry about it. I'd figured it out. Don't ask. It's nothing. He was just going over stuff about our recertification upstairs. Don't bother with it. Seriously.

The time had turned slowly toward evening. The clock struck five and the workday was officially technically over. Frank said everyone could go home and George said something about having time to make a snow house with his niece before dinner on his way out. Braddock stopped at the door to give me a private look that said, "Thanks for you know what." And I winked to show him I knew what.

I sat in my desk from there, just staring at the door as they filed out, one by one. Mike said a warmer goodbye to me than usual, probably feeling loved since I'd let him write up a boring report he actually had cared about. Soon, Frank and I were the only ones in the room. Frank stared at me as he buttoned his coat.

"Major?" he said.

"What is it, Frankincense?"

He cracked a brief smile. "There something I should know?"

"Probably," I said. I leaned my forehead on my desk. "Go home. I'm going to wait for my hubby."

"You sure?"

"Mm."

"He could be a while?"

"Mm."

"Okay, well, if that's what you want." He paused. "Not to state the obvious, Major, but there's a steady half foot of snow out there on the ground and taxis get pretty scarce in weather like this."

"I'm aware," I said. "Don't worry. I won't try to walk home if I get bored."

And I'd held true to that. I hadn't walked home on account of being bored. I'd walked home on account of this poor janitor guy wanting to lock up the room so he could get home to his family. It had been coming up on seven. I couldn't just make him wait with me.

So, I'd looked around the halls on my way out for anyone still around, anyone on their way out with maybe a car I could borrow a ride in. On a gross, cold day like that, though, everyone had gone home for warm drinks and stuff. Just like Frank had said, there were zilch vacant taxis out by the time I got to the side of the street. So, I'd walked. Just a few blocks from the Command Center to me and Maes's townhouse, but enough blocks in dirty snow and chilling evening wind to make me ache like nothing else by the time I'd gotten home.

I'd stepped out of my boots at the doormat. My socks and coat had come off on my way through our living room. By the time I'd made it to the bedroom, I'd shed everything but the button-down white dress shirt hanging open over my underwear and bra. I'd doubled onto the floor right before reaching the foot of the queen bed and craned my arm up to pull a flannel thro over my shaking body as I tried to thaw.

Now, finally, after who even knew how long of snuggling facedown in the carpet, I forced myself to my hands and knees and crawled to the doorway where my pants rested half inside out. I plunged my hand down the deep uniform pocket and retrieved my pocket watch. The face said it was coming up on nine o'clock. If the higher ups were trying not to seem suspicious, they were doing a greatly bad job of it.

A war meeting. I'd never seen one, obviously, but it had looked like one. Just like they described them in the novels, scant pictures in textbooks. A bunch of buffs around a big giant table looking serious, shuffling papers, hovering around maps with markers on different countries like a game board.

Maybe they were playing 'Axis & Allies'?

I heard the lock on the front door turn then winced when I heard the sound repeat after a moment. A sign it'd already been unlocked. Oops. The wind blustered loudly against the open doorframe for a beat before the door slammed, shutting out the disgustingly wintery night. I curled on my side and waited.

"Nina!" Maes said from the door. His boots clomped on the floor. Dang, he'd just mopped yesterday! He bolted into the bedroom with a passion. I looked up at him and saw his face was a little pale with some kind of panic, but, aside from that, had a pretty even tone; not blotched from the cold. So, he hadn't walked. Made sense, as he was supposed to have been my ride.

He knelt beside me in a hurried way, searching to meet my eyes. "Hey. Hey, you okay? The door was open and I saw your clothes all the way over here."

I groaned. "Yeah, what'd you expect, you little jerk? I got so freakin' cold walking home, I had to peel off the layers to thaw my core."

"Thaw?" He blinked. "Oh." He smiled a little and sank with his back leaning against the foot of the bed. "Thank God. I just," he closed his eyes wearily, "saw the clothes and my mind went to the worst, you know? Force of habit."

"Of being a worry wart?"

"Being a husband." He petted the top of my head like I was a black kitty. He'd gotten into stroking my hair since it had gotten long. "You okay? You said you had to walk?"

"You were my ride, genius."

His brow knit. "Couldn't someone else have dropped you off?"

I rolled my eyes. "I was waiting for you, genius."

He laughed. His eyes showed some kind of concern or something and he said, "You really walked?"

"Uh huh."

"In the snow?"

"I'm not some kind of paraplegic," I said. "I can walk a couple blocks in the snow."

"Sure you can," he said. "I wish you wouldn't."

"Should've driven me home, then, genius."

He raised his eyebrows. "I seem to be getting a lot of sarcastic _genius_ from you tonight."

"Pretty astute observation, genius." I yawned and buried my face in the carpet. "Can you make my back better, please?"

I heard the silence.

"Are you still complaining," he asked, "or do you actually want me to heal you?"

There was an edge of disbelief in his voice. I usually didn't take well to Maes using alkehestry on my back. It eased pain and restored function, but acted more as a bandaid than superglue, leaving me stiff the next morning and more prone to relapse than if I'd left it.

"Get out your stupid gloves," I said, "genius."

"Okay."

I heard his elbow-length wonders jingle as he slipped them on. Maes's healings were amazing. Painless but for maybe a little uncomfortable pressure on the big ones, with pinpoint accuracy and instant relief.

His hand slipped under my shirt and I felt a tingle at his paten leather fingertips as he scanned the damage. His other gloved hand pulled under my belly where the sword had gone in. The pain eased from there. I let out a breath and inhaled nice and deep.

"Thanks, baby," I said. "That's perfect."

"You sure?" he said, easing up a little. "I can do more."

I rolled from his healing hands so I was on my back looking up at him. "Nope, you're golden."

He gave a smile. "You look like a dog wanting its belly scratched."

I sat up quick and my back didn't ache when I did it. "Don't you be scratching me, you weirdo!"

Maes put his hands up like at gunpoint. "Never said I would, weirdo. Promised I'd never do it again."

"You've promised that, like, so many times."

He sank. "You just look so scratchable sometimes."

"It tickles to heck."

"I like it when you laugh."

I pouted. "Forced laughter only benefits one party, and it's not the laughing party."

"Fair enough," Maes said. He scooted, laid on the carpet with me, still all layered in his coat and uniform.

I sighed and dragged my hand lazily over his face. "Sorry about interrupting your fancy war meeting today."

Maes stiffened for a moment, then paused with wrinkled brows. "War meeting?"

"Mm," I said. "The maps and stuff. Looked pretty intense. Sorry."

Maes stared at me. His mouth broke into a smile. "You're great, you know that?"

"Why?"

He chuckled, pulling his hand over my waist. "War meeting? Really, Nina?"

"Well, what else would it be?" I said. I was being cute again, wasn't I?

He let out a breath through his nose and looked to the side. "I'm not exactly supposed to…"

"Hint?"

He met my eyes. "What am I good at?"

"Everything."

"Military-wise," he laughed.

I thought. "Being promoted?"

He sighed. "Why do I get promoted?"

"You got skill."

"What skill?" This wasn't going as easy as I'd counted.

I sucked my lip. "You…think different."

"Okay," said Maes. "And why might _thinking different _be useful in a level orange meeting?"

"Higher ups ran out of perspective on some kind of situation?"

"What kind of _situation_ might include that meeting's setup?" He smiled. "Aside from a war meeting."

I frowned. I'd been about to say that and he knew it. "I give," I said. "What, were you guys discussing foreign relations or something? Explains you guys not wanting me in the room."

"Very good, Mrs. Elric," he said.

"Foreign relations, huh?" I said. I asked him knowing he'd keep his mouth shut, "What about them?"

"Can't exactly say, Nina." He slackened, turning his eyes to the ceiling. He stared, graying over, like he was going through stuff in his head. "I was scared there for a moment, though. Can't say why. You know. But it looked dicey at first glance. Easy to see why they'd want a pair of fresh eyes to take a look."

"You want to just tell me what it was?" I said. "Or are you going to hint around until you trip over your tongue?"

His eyes shifted onto me and he laughed all cute like he was laughing at himself. "No, I'm done. Sorry."

He looked uneasy under the smile and I wondered if I'd shrugged him off. He scooted closer so our bodies were touching and shifted to face me. I shifted to face him.

"Why don't we have a night in?" he said. "Eat at the table. Use the fireplace for once."

"No corn."

He hooked his arm around me. "Maybe not for you."

"I mean it, Maes."

"Fine."

I sat up. "I'm serious."

He stood and put his hand out to me. "Yeah, fine, Nina."

I let him pull me to my feet and stepped forward to grab his coat off him. We looked way too off balance with me all stripped and him all layered. He looked happy for a moment until I transferred the giant coat onto me.

"Oh," he said. "You cold?"

"No," I said. "Just evening things out."

"Oh."

"Dinner, yes?" I patted his arm. His eyes followed me as I sauntered all cute out of the room. "Then desert."

"I always considered married life as more of a snack," he said contemplatively. "No schedule, just there when you need it."

That was pretty much defining male-kind on the simplest of terms. Maes compromised, though, because he liked the way his coat made me look like I was wearing a macabre circus tent with me as the undersized center pole.

Maes made grilled cheese sandwiches with extra cheese and stuck an over-easy egg in each for protein or deliciousness or something. I figured it was the most romantic thing he'd done in a while when he put back the can of baby corn he'd snuck out when he'd thought I wasn't looking.

We ate at the table, kind of a novelty for us. We usually ate on the countertop or on the front stoop, which was where I'd eaten a lot of my meals when I'd been living with my parents and been left to eat alone while they were at government-related dinners. Maes talked about lighting the fire for once, same as he'd been talking about since the weather had first turned cold months back, but, of course, it just didn't happen.

I mean, come on. I'd been half undressed before he'd even walked through the front door. What did he think was going to happen?

I snuggled against his warmer skin. Giantest downside to getting naked in the winter; the cold sheets afterward. He hugged his ape arms around me like a thick, coiling blanky. His tired breath sighed against my face and made my bangs part on my forehead.

"Sleepyhead," I teased.

"Not a contest, Nina" he said. "Man, is it really midnight?"

I looked over Maes to his nightstand with his glow-in-the-dark choo-choo train clock. I frowned, sinking into the mattress. "That's weird. You didn't turn back into a pumpkin this time."

"Not necessarily true," he said. "Aunt Riza calls me 'pumpkin' on accident all the time when your parents come over. Just you wait."

"Yeah," I said. "Key word there being, _accident_."

"It's okay," he sighed. "I'd rather be—"

"Don't," I said, "say corn."

"Oh, God, no! What do take me for? Some kind of cannibal?" He shuddered. "I was going to say I'd rather be a carriage."

"Oh," I said. "Sorry."

He yawned. "Forgiven." He shifted a little better under the blankets and sheets and settled. "Okay, quit working me up. Time for bed."

"We just did that," I said.

He chuckled against me. No reply besides that. Pansy. I didn't get how people slept after the act. Just made me all the more awake. Then again, my ability to sleep had never been mainstream.

"Maes?"

He grunted.

I leaned my cheek against his collarbone. "Do you think I should maybe just retire?"

He got a little rigid. "No."

I nodded. "No." I sucked my lip. "Is that all?"

He scooted around a little to get us eye to eye like we were actually talking about it. "Look, Nina, just because a couple officers got their militaristic feathers ruffled doesn't make you unwanted. You're the backbone of this government right now and I mean that. Without you, we're stagnant. That's when peacetime turns worse than otherwise. At least conflict stimulates the opportunity for growth."

I laughed. "What, and I'm conflict?"

"No," he said. "You're growth. You're growth and you know it."

"Dunno," I said. "Been feeling pretty dang stagnant lately. You sure you're not the one growth-ing?"

"I've been riding your coat tails since we joined, Major," he said. "I'm a top-notch soldier, but you're the ripple in this operation. Now, quit talking about stupid stuff and go to sleep. I have to be awake in less than five hours. Got a follow-up meeting in the morning."

I squeezed my arms around him. I kind of wanted to tell him I felt bad for him, but I knew I'd just end up calling him a working stooge or something and that would just get us talking again.

"Okay," I said.

His lips kissed my head all warm with his breath; his silent, "Good night." It was a matter of minutes before his arm felt heavier over me and his breathing became long and soft with sleep. I closed my eyes and counted his puffy exhales like counting sheep. I counted five thousand and twenty two before my mind turned off and let me sleep.

…

I woke up from the conclusion of a sketchy dream about my mother in-law getting pregnant again. I sort of smiled to myself as my eyes blinked open to darkness. No telling how often poor Aunt Winry and Uncle Ed must've been having accident-baby stress dreams since the twins had happened. Maes had been right. Those two really were like rabbits. Made getting pregnant look as easy as breathing. Easier.

My heart skipped. Right! I'd seriously almost forgotten.

I rolled out of Maes's hot hold, felt goose bumps rise on my arms at the shock of the chilly sheets in comparison. Maes groaned, kind of the deeper sleeper between the two of us and not wild about being disturbed in most cases.

"Sorry," I whispered. I patted his arm. "Forgot my stuff."

His voice slurred. "Stuff?"

"Yep, I got it." I felt around for the bedside lamp on my side. "Go back to sleep. You've still got about an hour."

He groaned again when the light came on. I watched him roll onto his stomach and nuzzle his face into his pillow. I skimmed the ground until I found my shirt lying in a crumpled heap at the foot of the bed. I pulled it on to fight some of the chill and called it good enough. I'd be back in bed with my thermal husband as soon as I downed my pills.

I was going to take a shortcut by climbing over Maes to get to our bathroom where the prescriptions were, but I ended up moving floppy because of me just having woken up and all and I accidently kneed him in the stomach a little bit. Maes grunted loud.

"Oops!" I whispered, like whispering did something.

"Ow," he said all disoriented. "You…are pointy."

"Sorry," I said. "Go back to bed."

He rolled over and blinked all scrunched like he'd never seen light before. "Nina? What are you doing? It time to wake up?"

"No," I said. "I just forgot my stuff. Almost. Go back to sleep. You've got an hour."

I swung my leg over him with a little more success this time and tried to continue over the bed. His hand grabbed my ankle loosely like he wanted me to hold up. I turned to tell him to go to sleep again, because he just didn't seem to be hearing it.

"Stuff?" he said before I could speak.

"The pills," I said. "Supposed to take 'em with dinner but I do it later sometimes. Doesn't make a difference. Actually, it probably does. Think I should go get a cracker or something? I mean, taking them on an empty stomach hasn't hurt me before, but why chance it, am I right?"

Maes narrowed his eyes. Looked kind of displeased. "Oh. Those pills."

"Yeah," I said. "Sorry. Needs to stay constant in my system. Guess the vitamins can wait until morning, but birth control's kind of something you got to keep up with, get me?"

Maes's eyes stayed narrow, but not at all in the sleepy way anymore. His breathing was too intentional for that, too hardened and quick. I rolled my eyes and puffed out a breath. I scooted so I was practically hovering over him.

"Okay," I said. "What's got you?"

He looked like he was grinding his teeth a little, like he was frustrated. He looked away all grumpy. "Do you have to take that one?"

I blinked. "That one? You mean, birth control?" I snorted. "Um, yes."

"It's synthetic hormones," he said.

"Yes?"

He looked at me. "That's a bad thing, Nina."

I shrugged a shoulder. "Prescription drugs don't tend to be good for you."

"Yeah, but," he scooted up on his pillow and propped himself up on his elbows, "Nina, you've been on it for two years. That's a long time to be taking something that harsh on the system."

I felt my face sulk. "You're still spooked about last month."

"Well, yeah," he said. He was looking a little more animated. "You looked like death."

I rolled my eyes. "Guys are such babies."

"It was a lot of blood."

"That's what periods are."

"Not that much." He swallowed, expression tight. "It was too much, Nina. You looked like death."

I leaned back from him and folded my arms. "It wasn't the pill."

"It was."

"No it wasn't."

"Yes," he said, sitting upright. "It was. The doctor said. I was right next to you when he said it."

"He said it was possible," I said.

"Nina…"

I let out a harsh breath. "What do you want me to do? Just stop taking them? Because rubbers worked so well for your folks, right?"

He gave a defensive glance. "Depends on how you look at it."

"I said I wasn't ready for a baby, Maes."

"Two years ago."

I knit my brow. "You want one?"

"No!" He closed his eyes. "I mean, that's not what I meant. It doesn't matter whether I…" He cut himself off, fastening his lip between his teeth like a lock on a box.

My body felt weak as I noticed the discussion shift gears. "What?"

His eyes drifted to the ceiling. The light of my bed lamp bounced off the side of his tilted face in a warm glow. Something about it, his molten eyes focused so hard on absolutely nothing and not a hint on me, made me feel cold in my white shirt.

"Maes?" I said. I sounded so small. Did I feel small?

"How long are we going to do this?" he said.

"Do…?"

"The birth control," he said. "And all the rest."

My mouth tightened. "You're being all vague."

His eyes moved onto me with unexpected urgency. It made my breath catch, the odd pleading in his gaze, like he was clawing at my heart to keep from falling.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I can't do this anymore. I can't. Come on, Nina, we're so ready it hurts."

I took a breath. "Since when?"

He sat up more and leaned his stabbing gaze into me. "Since our wedding night when you said, 'How about no protection?' and I said, 'Good call.'"

"I was being impulsive," I said. My body practically ached, having that brief conversation repeated at me. I looked away. "We were high on life. Didn't think it through. I told you that."

"Yeah, you did," he said. "After three months of trying for a baby and getting nowhere."

My eyes stung like I'd rubbed mascara into them without thinking about it. "Which turned out to be a good thing in the end."

His face set into a frown like he was hurt. "Just stop, would you? Look at us, Nina. You spent your first three years of life as an alchemic experiment and I was an invalid fighting death until I was eighteen years old. We don't have a shortage of reasons we might not be able to…"

"We can cross that bridge when we come to it."

"Dammit, Nina!" His hand gripped mine tight. "It's been two years. How long are you going to keep putting those poison pills down your throat before you fess up?"

"Fess," I said stiffly, "up?"

"What got you taking those things?"

"Doc said they'd trick my body into not getting preggers?"

"Come on," his head rocked back and he sighed. He looked at the wall in a sulk for a sec. His fingers tensed around my hand and he looked back at me. "You've been taking them," he sank, "so you'll have some kind of reason for not conceiving besides the fact that we just can't. And if we're ever going to get anywhere, we have to…"

I ripped my hand away and lunged forward to shove him as hard as I could, enough to make him rock back. "You jerk!"

I stumbled onto the floor and pretty much flew into the bathroom, not even flicking the lights on before slamming the door and locking it behind me. Pretty quick, I heard Maes knocking and saying my name and other stuff. I got the light on and fumbled through the medicine cabinet for the pills. My hands shook with every movement and I realized at the pain in my chest that I'd begun to cry.

"Nina, open up!" he said. The door seemed to boom with his fist beating against it. "Nina Elric!"

My breath broke with sobs as my trembling fingers ripped open the little round compact of daily pills. My tear-glazed eyes traced the lines of thin tablets, ready to be punched out, one by one by one. Saturday, Friday, Thursday, Wednesday, Tuesday, Monday, Sunday. Saturday, Friday, Thursday, Wednesday, Tuesday, Monday, Sunday. Saturday, Friday, Thursday, Wednesday…

"Nina, what's going on in there?"

Wait, I was there for Thursday's dose. Why was Wednesday's pill still in the container?

"Nina!"

My hand shook, fingers fumbling. There it was. Right next to Thursday. Wednesday's small, oval tablet sat ready in its spot, ready to be punched out and swallowed. I sobbed deep, body shuddering.

"I'm going to force it open!" Maes said.

I'd missed it. After two years of taking those toxic synthetic hormones every evening after dinner, I'd skipped Wednesday's dose. And I hadn't even known it. I caught blue light glow through the cracks in the doorframe and realized Maes was forcing his way in with alchemy.

The compact rattled in my grip. "Most women," I said, "would be worried right now."

The lock undid and Maes burst through. I chucked the compact in the sink and snapped my fingers. Maes jerked me back from the burst of flames like I'd been planning to lunge into them or something. The room filled with the smell of melting plastic. Smoke cleared from the sink to reveal the incinerated remains of my longtime prescription. Maes pulled me back into his arms and I cried. Took a minute with how hard I was shaking and how loud I was being, but I caught Maes's chest shuddering against me and I realized he was crying too.

"Thanks," he said shakily, "for getting rid of them."

"You're," I sputtered, "welcome."

He let out a feeble laugh. "That's one way to do it."

I sniffled hard. "Mm-hm."

"I love you," he said.

"I love…" my voice broke. "Sorry."

"Don't," his voice trembled. "Don't apologize, okay?"

"Okay."

"About anything."

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Okay, Maes."

We stumbled back to bed together, like a couple drunks staggering out of a bar, flopping on top of each other and pulling the covers over us in bunched handfuls and crooked overlaps like a badly layered Elric cake.

"Maes, we'd make terrible bakers." I sniffled, pressed my snotty nose into his chest at the pale discolored skin where I'd healed his lungs.

He hugged his arms around me. "Well, we got to leave my mom something to do, right? When she's not chasing after my brothers."

"Been a handful since they started walking."

"Been a handful since they were born."

"Two hands' worth."

Maes's laugh was watery. "Damn, how unfair is that? Two in one go and they weren't even trying."

"Think they'd give us one?"

"No, my dad's way too fond of them. And you know Mom. She loves being a mom."

My eyes pushed tears down my cheeks as I shut my lids. I fought the hitch in my breathing, but thinking about it made it hitch more. "God! What now?"

"Doctors," said Maes simply, like he'd had the word in his head for a long time. "We go to special doctors who tell us all the stuff that's screwed up with our reproductive systems and then we ask them if any of it's fixable."

"And if it isn't?"

"Well," he said, "some of the best people I've known were adopted."

Sounded just like his dad, just like what Uncle Ed had said when I'd asked about Selim not being able to make babies. I gulped. "Am I maybe a bit of a homunculus kind of?"

Maes held me tight. "What?"

"Selim Bradley," I said. "He can't make babies since he was made from human souls and all, you know? Homunculi can't make babies. And I had all those other souls in my life force before we separated a few years back, so that's kind of like a homunculus, yes?"

"That's bull and you know it." He took a breath. "You want my honest opinion, I'd say it's probably me. Had so many close calls as a kid, got so sick, pumped full of all those drugs to keep my organs going. It would hardly be surprising if my body turned sterile a long time ago without me having a clue."

"Maes?"

"Yeah?"

"I want my babies to look like my parents," I said. "The biological ones. Because that's bound to show up somewhere in the genes. I mean, who could say? Maybe mystery baby-mama was a redhead and you and I could have a gold-eyed freckled little guy and he could grow himself a nice orange beard for my birthday in forty years and he'd look like a freaking lumberjack or a very large leprechaun, yeah? That'd be the best ever. Ever!"

"Or maybe he'd look just like you."

"Um," I said. "No."

"My dad's got some pretty dominant features," said Maes. "Look at me and my sibs. Sophie takes more after my mom than any of the rest of us, but even the boys are looking more and more like him these days."

"Can we name him _Bob_?"

"No."

"Fair enough."

"I like _Jim_."

I blinked. "Like the kid on that pirate ship and junk? I read that in grade school. Abridged version."

"We could name our daughter _Hawkins_!"

"Oh, my gosh! Set much?" I sat up on him all bouncy. "Want to go to the doctor right now? Go in, get fertile, come home and fertilize?"

"I'm," he laughed, "not sure that's how it works, honey."

"You're right. We'd probably need an appointment."

He laughed harder. Good to see. For a second there, he'd looked genuinely torn down. Perfectly fine to acknowledge, of course, but Maes didn't do too good when he gave hopeless stuff too much thought. The way he'd been talking, it had sounded like he was close to having exhausted the hope right out of the situation.

"It's nice to think about," I said.

"Mm."

"Just not too hard, right?"

He pulled me back down to him. "Mm."

"Guess there's no point in you going back to sleep. You're due to wake up in fifteen minutes."

"Mm-hm."

I wiped my tearstained face with a handful of sheets. "Guess I'll keep you company. I'm all jazzed up."

"That so?" His eyes held mine as he ran the backs of his fingertips lightly down the side of my face. "You said fifteen minutes?"

I closed my eyes and met his lips. "Mm-hm."

Maes went into work ahead of me on the condition that I wait for him to drop back home after the meeting to pick me up. No more getting impatient and walking. I was up and ready same as he was pretty much, but I wasn't invited to the meeting and if I went in early with Maes, I'd end up having to do paperwork or some other useless garbage while I waited on the rest of the team to make it in. So, Maes kissed me bye-bye and went ahead.

I decided to call Phil up and ask him if he'd gotten fired.

"Major Philip Thomas speaking," said he. "Who's calling?"

I cackled into the receiver. "Wait, you still answer your home phone with your rank tacked at the front? We talked about this, Philly. You really expect your daughters' boyfriends to last if they get gruff soldier-daddy on the line every time they call?"

His voice warmed. "Never thought of that."

"You're as bad as my dad," I said. "Well, actually, you're really way not. The whole, 'burning suitors alive,' deal's kind of hard to top, am I right? I am." I shrugged. "But, you know, intimidation by phone, that's nice too."

He chuckled that rumbly, beefy-guy way. "How can I help you, Nina?"

"Just making sure you're not fired and stuff."

"Well," he said. I winced. "Not yet. Probably lost some good graces for next time you sucker me, though."

"Oh, God, you scared me!" I said. "I was missing you already, Phil."

"Touched," he said. "So, was that all, Miss Nina?"

"You got stuff to do?"

"I occasionally eat breakfast and put on my uniform before going into work."

I smirked. "At least you save time on combing your hair."

"So there's plenty of time for you to call me and make bald-jokes at five thirty in the morning?"

"Six fifteen."

"Six fifteen?" He paused. "Oh, sh—"

"Zip your dirty mouth! I got innocent ears, dammit!"

"That all, Nina?" he said in a rush. "I got to go. Talk to you later."

I bit my lip. "Hey, hold it a sec. I got to ask you something way important." I closed my eyes. "Except not. It's actually very much trivial. It's no big deal, but..."

"Shoot, kid."

"Um," I said. "Your wife, when you were still together and you got her all knocked up those two times with your daughters and stuff," I paused. "Did she like the pregnant part, or was it all that swollen feet and puking on the carpet junk?"

Silence.

"So," I said. "Did she like it, or what?"

He sounded unsure, "Nina?"

"Did she like being pregnant?"

His breath sighed into the receiver. "Well, yeah. How could she not? She got to know our girls months before anyone else did. Yeah, I guess she did like it."

I breathed. "That," I said, "was a really crummy answer, Phil."

I hung up.

I flopped onto our leather couch. "This shouldn't matter. At all."

I mean, I was adopted, right? And my parents had made it very clear all my freaking life that they wouldn't have had it any other way.

I remembered my mom's eyes dropping and then that feeble attempt at a smile when I'd asked her eleven years ago if I'd been too much of a project for her and dad to have time for any other kids. She'd told me not to think like that, like it was my fault. She'd said I would've made a great big sister, just Daddy couldn't make babies, so it hadn't been an option.

I remembered Mom telling me how much she would've liked to have been my biological mommy and gotten to hold me when I was all infant-y and new. Then she'd shut her mouth and never talked about it again because she'd shown too much hurt when she'd said it and I'd probably given her the, "Is it my fault you're sad?" look.

I traced my fingers over my tummy. Jeez. Back when the twins were still inside Aunt Winry, back when I'd gotten to touch their souls—so rhythmically joined with one another, nested in their mother's life force, pulsing with unadulterated currents of perfect energy—there was nothing to compare it to.

Three souls' circuits with beats so effortlessly aligned that I had held my breath. I'd frozen, because even as the world's most able life force alchemist, even as I matched their beat and rode their circuit, I'd known that I couldn't join it, not with alchemy. Not with the same intimacy a mother and her unborn children achieved through conception.

And I'd been excited, because conception hadn't seemed like such a hard thing to pull off at the time.

Boo.

On.

That.

* * *

**Oh noze! Wat's this? MORE side effects of crappy backstories? Author, have a heart!**

**Nina and Maes are so cool. They do everything their style, even life struggles. Especially life struggles. And Maes considers married-life as a snack.**

REPLIES!

naes cornstang: *hugs reader for awesome guest name* Actually, his last name's Focker in the series. I dunno if they ever mention his first. I could have too much fun with that...

Harryswoman: Haha, I snap, crackle, and pop all over as a side effect of moving. My cousin once felt back because he thought he'd damaged me in a hug. I was like, no, it just does that. Come back and gimme a hug!

Silverpedals1402: Yeah, poor Nina. I'm sure she's walked into worse. Like that chapter in FL when she walked in on Maes with his automail showing that first time...

KTrevo: We LERVE Phil! And Amestris going to war with Xing would be hilarious. Ed would fake Roy's signature on a declaration of war because Ling left him a massive unpaid room-service bill last visit. Nina would end it a few weeks later by calling Ling up and threatening to tell the world that he still sleeps with a night-light shaped like his own face but with open eyes instead of squinty ones as to remember his bro-mance with Greed in days gone by.

author12306: Ha, you remember him! Btw, I'm gonna do that doll website you told me about for some of my new OCs. Because Olga need pretty dress worn by Armstrong women for generations.

mixmax300: I'm so sorry you were confused :( I feel like you missed out. Feel free to ask for clarification anytime on anything that stands out to you. And yes, Nina has changed since we last saw her in FL. She internalizes a lot more. Maes has changed too, turned more into a grown up, I guess. Husband vs boyfriend.

RootlessGirl: That thing you said about me shining through my writing, that is what it's all about right there. I actually stove to be a pro writer so I could address certain stuff about my life in my writing that might get through to readers who may be going through similar things. My goal is to get famous someday and get noticed by people who normally wouldn't listen and use the fame to 'make a difference,' mostly give a voice to the mentally ill, actually. I thrive on sincerity. Thank you for the acknowledgement!

ArtisticFantasy: Thank you so much! I mean, seriously. One of the things about my writing style is I have this kind of 'voice' that comes through no matter what I'm writing. The fact that that's appreciated and not discredited as OOC or w/e means tons :)

**HAPPY EASTER, EVERYBODY! HE IS RISEN!**


	4. Timing

**A/N: I am SO not quitting on Accident Baby, guys. Don't you worry. It's just on forced vacation. It will be back and it will be completed in all its glory. I dunno when. For now, I'm focusing on FL2. Please note that I'm also currently working on my own novel, so updates for fanfictions aren't going to be as disciplined as the schedules I've maintained in the past. God willing, it won't be too bad, though.**

**Long-ish chapter today! Because it had to be long! It's packed with stuff! Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 4: Timing

So, I'd had breakfast twice already and Maes still hadn't stopped back at the house to pick me up. I was supposed to have already been at HQ, like, an hour ago. Otherwise, I might've called the in-laws to hitch a ride to the office with Uncle Fullmetal. I eventually got a call from Maes, a short one, him saying, "I'm about to get caught up in another meeting, baby. No way I'm getting away. Don't you dare walk. Call someone or stay home, okay?"

I called Elicia first. I knew she'd be busy or gone at her ballet school or something. She had a life. I just kind of wanted to see her. She didn't answer her phone, so I moved onto Aunt Winry.

Amidst the squeals and whines of my brothers in-law and Aunt Winry's intermittent, "Skylar, what happened to your pants?" and "Avery, don't bite your brother! Brother is not breakfast!" my dear sweet mom-by-marriage told me she was a little busy trying to get the boys ready to pick their big sister up from the train station. Apparently Sophie had moved her tri-annual visit from Risembool to this month. This week. This morning. And she hadn't bothered warning anyone until about three hours ago before boarding her train.

I loved Sophie so much. Jeez, if the State of Amestris hadn't revoked my driving privileges a year and a half ago after all those failed attempts behind the wheel, I might've gone to pick Sophie up myself just to encourage her blatant efforts to be a total burden to everyone who crossed paths with her.

I called my mom. She was always busy—and usually a little ticked at me these days—but I was running out of options before I had to resort to calling friends at work or cabbing it up.

"You've reached the office of the Fuhrer," said the secretary kind of tight. "The code you dialed…"

"Yeah, yeah," I said. "I know what I dialed. It means I don't get put on hold. Listen, lady, think you could grab Lt. Colonel Hawkeye for me? She's blond, beautiful, and pre-menopausal. Nine times out of ten she's standing in for the Fuhrer's shadow."

The secretary's voice flattened. "Please hold on a moment, Major Mustang."

Dang, she knew me? I bit my lip. Felt bad for not knowing her. I thought about asking her name. I'd asked Phil's name that one time after months of not bothering to remember, and now we were total buds. Good things came out of bothering. Sometimes.

Mom sighed into the phone. "Major Mustang?"

"Hey, Mom." I smiled a little so maybe she'd hear it in my voice. "I'm at home, you know. Technically doesn't count at us both being in the workplace. You can call me Nina if you feel so inspired."

"Wrap it up, Major. I'm in a meeting," she said. "Wait, what are you doing home? Are you sick? Does Maes know?"

I giggled. "Oops. Did I set off the 'mom' alarm?"

"Are you alright?" She sounded dang serious. So serious that I actually thought about it before answering by reflex. Mistake.

I swallowed, because I didn't feel a hundred percent fine, in all honesty. But she'd meant in a more physical sense than I had in mind. "I'm good, Mom. I just need a ride in. Maes left early for some meeting and he called half an hour ago to tell me he couldn't swing back and pick me up seeing as things had run over. Again. And Aunt Winry's all busy with the boys and Sophie coming to Central really unexpectedly early as of this morning. Plus, I told Maes I wouldn't walk to work this time, which was a good thing to tell him since I had to get him to heal my back yesterday instead of just letting it heal on its own and that always leaves it weaker the next day. Or days. I don't know."

"I'm on my way," she said sharply. "Don't move, got it? You stay where you are, sweetie. I'm on my way."

"Mom, it's not," the phone clicked, "that urgent." I rocked my head back. "Damn it."

The door was ringing about thirteen minutes later. Impressive timing considering the snow still making slush in the roads. As I came to the door, I heard a key scratching at the lock. Mom had probably second-guessed herself on having me get up to answer the door. I unlocked the thing and swung it open.

"Come on, Mommy," I said, hip tilted. "I told it out to you on the phone. Maes healed me. I don't need to take it _that_ easy. I can answer a freaking door. Good grief."

She tucked her keys back in her pocket and gave me a little smile that said she was relieved to see I wasn't in some kind of wheelchair or something.

"Well, excuse me for worrying," she said in some kind of pant. "It's not every day I hear about you letting anyone use alkehestry on you. I just assumed it had been bad."

"Past tense," I said. I got my coat off the hook. "I'm good now."

I waited until we were securely in the car before I told her about walking home and all. And owned up to bending the wrong way on my way out of the 'war meeting' prior. If I'd told her at the stoop, she would've delayed us by, like, half an hour worrying and scolding and all that good stuff. Not that I could blame her. I mean, besides me being her baby, the original effects of my injury hadn't exactly been pretty.

"It's just," she said at the wheel, "Nina, even with the first response alkehestry on your side, it took over a month just to get you stable enough to transfer to Amestris. And another five weeks in-patient at the rehabilitation center in Dublith. I don't want to see you go back to that. You've worked so hard. You've been so careful."

"For three years," I said. I leaned in my seat. "Chill, Mom. I walked a few blocks. It's not like I've been engaging in backflips."

"No, no, no. Nuh-uh, baby. Don't you try to talk this down. You said Maes had to heal you. That doesn't happen unless you did some damage."

I groaned. "I was sore! I get back pain all the flipping time when the weather's like this. Just didn't feel like taking it easy last night, okay?"

Mom frowned at the near-empty roads as she drove. "I swear, Nina. Sometimes I just can't make sense of you."

"Not an uncommon problem."

"Half the time I wonder if I'm overreacting. Half the time I feel like I'm brushing something off. I'm not a mind reader. I need more to go by than just, 'I was sore.' I mean, _sore_ could mean anything. That's what you say after you've been sitting in a meeting for too long. That's what you used to say when you'd forget your bandaids and you'd come to us with burns on your hands. 'Daddy, I need a transmutation. My hands are sore.' And you could've had the first two layers of skin seared off your fingers. Nina—"

I breathed harsh. "We wanted sex, okay?" I scrunched my eyes closed so hard they burned. "My back was too achy to do much, so Maes healed it. The end."

Everything went all quiet, just the sound of the slush flicking under the car's rolling wheels. I chanced a look up at my mother. I winced. She was blank. Too blank. The kind of blank she got when she was making a big huge effort not to crack up laughing. Her nose got red and wrinkled and, inevitably, she let out the first laugh and a billion more followed it.

"Shut up," I said. I sucked my lip and grumbled, "What, you expect me to keep tip-toeing around it when you're getting all choked up and worried about me like that? Jeez. Don't make me sorry for caring."

"I'm sorry, baby," she laughed. "You just…you crack me up. Are you really embarrassed?"

"Mom."

"Even with me?"

"Mom!"

She giggled to herself. What was so damn funny?

I slumped. "What's so damn funny?"

Mom shook her head. "I don't know. You've always been a little choosey with what's okay to talk about and what isn't. Never quite lines up with the mold. I guess I figured, with how _freely_ you choose to show your affections toward Maes outside the home, you'd be less defensive in bringing that kind of thing up around your mother."

"Making out's different," I sulked. "That's a recreational activity. Sex is _our_ thing." I hugged a knee up to my chest. "Just ours, okay?"

Mom was smiling, but not the twitchy kind like the aftermath of laughter. She was smiling soft in that way that made her look colorful. She took one hand off the wheel to pat my knee.

"You really know what you're doing, huh?" she said.

I felt that warmth I'd been feeling off and on since I was a kid. The kind that came on when she got proud of me. Of anyone in the world, above every opinion out there, no one knew relationships like my mom did.

Anytime she caught onto some persisting issue in how me and Maes were carrying out our marriage, she'd actually call us out on it and stay on our case until she could tell we were working on it. We were young and messed up and codependence and pride were ugly things.

I appreciated my mom for making us work on stuff instead of letting it build up and fester, but there was nothing like it when she talked like there was a thing or two she could be learning from us.

"I love you, Nina," she said. I looked down at the seats. She hand her hand over mine. "I don't get to say that enough anymore."

I laced my fingers over hers. "You realize you were the first person to ever say that to me, right? All the other kids in the lab, they didn't even know what love meant. You taught me." I squeezed her hand. "So, every time anyone tells me they love me, you're saying it too."

Mom's smile faded. Not the reaction I'd been going for. Her mouth parted slightly, and for a moment, it felt like she was letting go of my hand. She masked the hesitation by shifting her hold and then tightening again afterward.

"Nina," she said, "besides the other lab subjects, is there anyone else who stood out to you in that place? One of the adults, maybe? I've heard you describe some of them as a lot of guys in white coats."

"I don't think about them." I phrased it as if it was something I'd chosen. I chose it on a daily basis.

Mom nodded. Silent. Hand going slack again.

"Mom?"

She took a left toward HQ. "Anya," she said. "Do you remember that name?"

I blinked. "Um, I think that may've been the name of the school nurse at my old pre-kindergarten." I smiled. "Yes?"

But Mom's smile was thin. "I think you might be right."

"Hey," I said. "You okay? You're being slightly depressed."

She let out a chuckle. "Fine. Just got a lot on my mind. A lot of meetings today." She sighed. "Not to mention my sweet daughter nearly gave me a heart attack this morning using the emergency code when she called me at work."

I shrugged. "I didn't want to get put on hold. Sue me."

She kept smiling. Like a honey-haired angel with those big brown blinkers sparkling wherever she pointed her gaze.

"Sorry," I said.

She gave me a side-glance. "Hm?"

I hunched. "When you worry about me. Like, when you really worry. You talk about the hospital and the rehab, but I know that's not what you see. You see the bits before with me all bloody and stabbed and dead and the paramedic saying it's too late to do anything. And then I change the subject or make it funny because I don't like that that's what you're really thinking. Sorry, Mom. I wish you hadn't gotten there before I'd wised up and revived myself."

Her face crumpled a little for a moment, but she took a deep, steadying breath and she was okay. She pulled up into the lot and parked in a handicapped space. I let her get out the sticker and put it on the dashboard. Handicapped spaces usually gave my drivers more peace of mind than they did me.

She scooted sideways on the seat and put her arms around me, good and tight. "You came back to me, Nina," she said. "Memories can be a pain, but this," she drew away to meet my eyes, "this is what made me a mom. And this is why I'm still a mom, and that's not something to apologize for." She twinkled a smile. "Am I right?"

I shrugged. "I tend to think so."

She put her hand on my head. "Keep thinking it."

We climbed those stupid stone steps to the HQ entrance. Sure, the number of steps looked nice and fancy and all, but seriously. That was a lot of stairs to climb, especially with the weather being all crappy making the surface of everything slick.

Mom held my arm to make super sure I didn't slip. Plus, I figured she liked the excuse to hold me. I wasn't complaining. My mother was a dang comfy person.

"What's going on with all those meetings?" I said as we walked.

"Oh," said Mom. "Just boring grown-up stuff."

"That excuse worked better when I was eight."

She laughed kind of at herself. "Really, Nina. You hate boring grown-up stuff. Hasn't mattered what age you were."

"That is true," I said. "But these recent meeting-thingies have been pretty numerous and on the fly, if I do say so myself. I find that a little interesting. Maybe more than a little."

Mom's grip on my arm tightened, but she kept her eyes forward and blank like she figured I didn't suspect I'd gotten her uncomfortable.

"Don't worry about it," she said. "It'll sort itself out."

"I've deduced that it is concerning foreign relations, no?"

Her grip on my arm squeezed enough to make me wince. Mom shot me a look. "Did Maes tell you that?"

I blinked. "Um, no. I said I deduced. No telling involved. Deduction, my dear mother." I smiled and tapped my noggin. "That means I figured it out by making observations. With my brain. And my logic."

For a moment, I felt very cool.

Mom took a long breath, let it out, and breathed again. "Nina, you can't," she put her hand on the small of my back as we reached the top step, guiding me onto the level ground, "you can't mention that to anyone. Not a soul. Do you understand?"

I nodded. "Tons." I rolled my eyes and grumbled. "Just boring grown-up stuff my ass."

"Nina, I mean it," she said. Her voice had an edge of desperation to it. Not common with her. Well, maybe a little more common when she was around me.

I sucked my lip. "What meetings? I don't know anything about any meetings. What's a meeting? Does it have anything to do with meat? Because my dad gets heartburn with beef and stuff, so he couldn't possibly be involved with such a thing. Yes?"

Mom's mouth quivered into a smile until she just let herself snort. "Okay. That's enough. I got you, Nina."

She put her arm around me as the two of us entered the hall and I leaned into it.

Mom sighed. "Skylar and Avery have really been giving poor Winry a hard time lately, huh?"

"No dip. Terrible twos, am I right?" I laughed. "You lucked out with me on that front."

Mom's expression fell. Apparently I wasn't funny. She reached her hand over and grabbed mine gentle. "I," she said, "wish I hadn't missed so much. Terrible or otherwise."

I played with her thumb. "Yeah, I know. I know that."

She blinked, got this melancholy half-smile as she watched the tiles of the hall. It made me hurt. Some kind of weird hurt. Not physical. Couldn't call it emotional, either. It was an ache with sharp pangs, building and leaving in waves. For a moment, I felt happy.

I bit down on my lip as my eyes got hot with salty wet. I blinked rapidly. Mom was so busy being zoned out that she didn't notice. Didn't even look up. I tilted my head up and breathed until the tears made it back into my face. There we go. There you go, Nina.

"Nina?" Mom said.

I looked at her. She wasn't looking at me. She was looking at our joined hands. I realized with a jump of panic that I was squeezing Mom's hand way too hard. I pulled away and she massaged her knuckles.

"Sorry," I said. "Wasn't thinking about it."

"I assumed not." Mom was looking at me now. "What were you thinking about?"

"I was thinking," I paused, looked at my hands, "that people have the wrong idea about ladies who can't conceive. The stereotype is you long for children and that's what makes you sad. Not true. It's so much worse. So, so much, Mom." I swallowed. I snapped my gaze up to her, her wide, wet eyes. "It's like you're grieving, Mommy. You're grieving over kids you never got to have. You're grieving over a ton of terrible-twos that never happened." I grabbed my flat stomach. "It's like you lost them before you got the chance to know what it was like for them to be there."

"No, Nina. I'm okay, sweetie." She touched my hair. "I'm okay. You're enough. You're perfect."

"It's like Grandma Izumi, how she never knew her baby past pregnancy." I sniffed. "But we don't even get that much."

Mom froze, blood draining from her face in a sudden stark sweep. Man, I couldn't even see her chest breathing. Her hand faltered on my hair. Her fingers hesitated at my face as I watched her lips part and work to form words. She took a breath.

"_We_, sweetie?" she said, finally.

Her fingertips made contact at my cheek just in time to catch tears. Her face crumpled, enough color returning to her skin to make her seem flushed in a sick kind of way. She shook her head. Side to side, disbelief sinking into protest. Shaking her head.

"Nina?" she said shakily. "Honey?"

"More like vinegar," I muttered.

I closed my eyes and waited to feel her thumb wipe the stupid teardrops off my face. I waited for her to wrap me in her arms, the kind of unique hug only achieved by combining maternal affection with military issued trench coats.

Her hand left my face.

"Lieutenant Colonel!" some deep voice shouted from down the hall. "Lieutenant Colonel Hawkeye! You're needed with the higher-ups right away!"

I blinked my eyes. Saw my Mom's stone expression, her mouth frowning tight at the officer approaching. Saw that this conversation was over.

"Give us a minute, Sergeant," she said all commanding.

"I apologize, ma'am," he said, "but Fuhrer Mustang made it clear that…"

I watched Mom's eyes widen just a little. "The Fuhrer sent you?"

The guy was standing straight like he was ready to bolt at any moment. "Yes, ma'am."

I dragged my fist across my face, smudged away the tears for myself. The end. Mom turned to me with some kind of apologetic slash pleading look that I'd kind of expected. I gave her a bored, very much unenthusiastic smile.

"Yeah," I said with a couple pats to her arm. "Just boring grown-up stuff."

"Nina," she said all sad. "We'll talk later, okay? Me and you. Promise."

"Sure, Mommy." I waved as I left her, building my voice enough to tack on, "My. Ass."

Whatever Dad needed her for must really have been important, because she didn't chase me after I said the bit about, _my ass_. Made me a tiny bit sorry I'd said it. If she wasn't going to fix it, no point in making her feel like she'd totally ditched me at a terrible time. Which she had.

I didn't go straight to the elevators. I branched off at the girls' room, picked a stall, and took about twenty good minutes getting a freaking grip.

I crossed into our office, one heavy shoe after the other. Braddock and Mikey were arranging empty pots into some kind of organized rows on the main slate table. Olga sat at her desk, apparently putting finishing touches on painting Focker's face onto the last pot. Frankfurter seemed to be out. So was Uncle Ed, but there was a steady chance he was with Maes again. I wondered if Frank was too this time.

At the end of the room, though, right at the window, little George Fuery was shifting his wide-rimmed glasses on the bridge of his nose through a tense-looking conversation with a guy I recognized from Knox's team. Major Howard Bale. Tall, smug, with light brown hair slicked back like he thought he was suave or something.

I heard George sputtering, "I'm sorry, sir, but I think you should talk to the Colonel about that. You see, I'm one of the lowest ranking officers on the team. I run errands and sort papers."

Bale folded his arms. "I'm getting impatient, Sergeant."

It was moments like these that made me oh so grateful for irritating Howard Bale into transferring research teams. The guy was an expert on military history and strategy. Apparently he'd been immersing himself in the stuff since he was a kid and he knew it like a second language. He knew it enough to get some alchemy behind his belt before joining up so he'd be able to apply for State Alchemist certification and bypass straight to the ranking of major. It was a good thing, too, because the guy seemed to think he knew everything and being a major from the get-go meant there were a lot of people, like George Fuery, who he got to boss around.

Howard had joined the service before me, actually, by seven months; around the time Maes helped me run away from home. Apparently Howard had had some past acquaintance with my parents. He'd been assured that my father would put him in good standing upon entering the military. Of course, that hadn't happened. I'd run away and my dad had been too distracted with what was going on with me to pay attention to the new State Alchemist candidates, even the one he had history with. Howard had been certified, but he'd been forced to build a reputation for himself without help from Fuhrer Dad.

Unfortunately, Howard had learned alchemy so as to obtain a rank, not to actually use for research purposes. He was more interested in leadership. But he'd been recruited for alchemy, so that's the position he'd been put in, and he'd sucked at it right off the bat.

My parents returned to Amestris from Xing, and instead of my dad at last focusing on Major Howard Bale, he focused on certifying his daughter and her boyfriend. Because Howard's research team had been so embarrassingly unproductive, to the point that team members were filing for transfer to another team within days of starting, Dad had seen a perfect opportunity to redeem the situation by handing co-leadership of the team to me and Maes, Howard to work under us.

It hadn't meant to be an insult. Actually, Dad had been really kind to make that move. The higher-ups were set on revoking Howard's certification at the annual presentation that year. But then our team started coming up with revolutionary results in a rush and Maes started getting credit, some of which he deserved, some of which I dumped on him because I didn't want to fool with it. Once Maes got recognized for his results, he started catching eyes for his leadership skills. The higher-ups started getting an idea of how smart and strategic and stuff Maes was, and that's when Maes started getting promoted.

And Howard didn't.

He was me and Uncle Ed's unwilling third counterpart in our expression, _Major's for life_.

"Hey, Howie," I said in flat greeting.

My research team's gazes lifted sharply and I was fairly certain no one had caught me coming in. Even when I was sloppy, I ended up sneaking up on people. I stepped next to George, just a little in front of him, a silent imitation of a shield. What kind of person picks on George Fuery?

"Major Mustang," said Howard with an edged smile. "You're looking well."

I looked back at my team members. "Okay, is there a reason you guys left Georgie to handle this guy on his own?"

George put up his hands in defense. "No, ma'am. Don't worry about it. Major Bale just came for…"

"To mooch off our breakthrough for Knox?" I said. I cocked my hip and glared daggers into Howard's eyes. "Tell the geezer it ain't happening. He wants a sneak peek at our research, he's got to reciprocate, you got me? I want every file you've got on scar-to-flesh regeneration and I want copies of doctor and researchers' lab records; notes included. Until that happens, you aren't getting a scrap out of us, Bale."

The guy couldn't stop the sour look in his eye. Howard rolled his eyes like a total kid. "Don't shoot the messenger, Mustang."

"I'm bad at guns," I said.

"Not surprising," he said.

He left and my team watched in slightly slack-jawed silence. Only slightly, though. They were kind of pretty used to witnessing me being blunt like that by now.

A moment passed. Braddock spoke.

"That," he said, "was a little harsh, don't you think, Major?"

"That was kind," I said, soft. "Bale didn't come because of Knox. That decrepit old doc and I talk like cutthroat competitors as a joke. We don't actually hate each other. Knox wouldn't stoop to tricking info out of subordinates while their superiors weren't around." I sighed. "Get me? Major Bale didn't come here for Knox. He came here to steal credit for a breakthrough we haven't formally announced yet. I railed on Knox to save the guy some face, okay?"

"Damn," said Braddock all awestruck.

Olga gave me a few slow claps of applause. Mikey nodded reverently. I nodded back.

"Look, guys," I said. "Just because you're young or new or subordinate-y, it doesn't make you lesser human beings. You don't have to take that crap from anyone around here. Especially from people who outrank you."

"Could've fooled me," George mumbled.

I looked at him, the way he'd planted his hands in his pockets with his eyes down. The others were looking a little deflated themselves, even Olga. For a second, I thought about tattling on Howard to Knox.

I touched George's shoulder. He looked up and I gave him a little smile.

"Come on, you guys," I said. "Get real. It's team captain and players. Not coach and players. _Captain_ and players. Captains direct the plays and then they carry them out _with_ their team." I looked at my boots. "Coaches yell orders from a bench while their team runs around and sweats. When superiors give you crap, you just got to ask yourselves, is this jerk a captain, or is he a coach? And then you look at yourself and you decide which one you'd rather be. Are you going to boss your team, or are you going to serve them?"

"Well, well," said Frank. I looked up where he stood all amused at the door. "Filling in for the Colonel again, Major?"

"Where were you?" I said.

Frank walked to his desk. "We got a request from the Court Marshall's office for updated files on all our team members. I'm sure it's for the new grant. They're giving us more this year. They want to keep track of us."

"That's creepy," I said. "You turn in anything about me?"

He shook his head. "No need. You're the Fuhrer's daughter, so…"

"Yeah, Amestris keeps pretty solid track of me." I cleared my throat. "Usually."

George caught my eye with this sweet little George-smile. "Thank you, Major. That was a good speech."

"Speech?" I said. "No, bud, thank _you_. Playing dumb and standing firm with Bale like that," I folded my hands. "I was so proud."

His smile got a little more on the sly side, all cute and sneaky. "Yes, ma'am."

"Aw!" I said. "I want to make you a peanut butter and jelly sandwich on white bread with the crusts cut off and sliced into triangles!"

Olga winced. "This makes Olga hungry for childhood."

"Bale?" said Frank. "Major Bale was here?"

I sat at my desk and only half-listened as Olga explained the entire incident to Frank in third person. I wondered if Mom was serious about talking later or if she meant, like, later as in a few weeks from now. With how busy Maes had been, made sense that she'd be too busy for me.

Dang it, Nina! So freaking neglected.

"Major Mustang?" said Braddock.

I looked up. He wasn't the only one staring at me. All of them were. When had they stopped talking?

"What?" I said.

"Something on your mind, Major?" said Frank with a wary concern to his tight frown.

I huffed. "Tons." I stood. "So, how about we grow some gifts?"

The team took turns sorting the pots, determining which officer got what scrap of garbage, each having a go at drawing the new array at the bottom of each pot. Even the non-alchemists got to draw it. It was a group effort, no? Who cared if they couldn't activate it? They could still prep the thing. It was as much theirs to prep as it was any member of the team's.

"Hey," I said with an elbow to Olga's bicep. "Hey, Olga, I can't find any pear remains in my bag. What do you say we grow Focker some prunes instead? You know? Because he always acts so freaking constipated?"

Olga snorted. "Prunes do not grow. Plums grow and then are made into prunes. Like grape to raison."

I frowned. "You are just oodles of fun, aren't you?"

"You shouldn't speak badly against General Focker," said Frank firmly. "He takes his job seriously. There's nothing offensive about that. At his position, sincerity is a credential."

"Mind if I ask who's Focker?" said Braddock with his eyes going over a freshly painted matrix at the bottom of General Breda's pot.

"He hates me," I said.

"Because she breaches military etiquette on a regular basis," Frank added. "He started out in the Court Marshall's office. It's not surprising he'd find regular violations from a remorseless officer hate-worthy."

I shrugged. "Point taken."

"Major Mustang has her enemies and allies," said Mikey. I caught him giving Braddock a tired smile. "You'll get used to it."

Braddock set a pot down. He met my eyes. "Don't know if I'm being presumptuous or just asking the obvious, but I'm a little curious about how the military doesn't see all those allies bailing you out as playing favorites."

Even cool, collected Mr. Frank went rigid at that. Braddock had really called it.

I layered my arms contemplatively. "You talking about how my boss is my husband and the Fuhrer's my dad? Oh, no, the military definitely sees that as favoritism. No doubt about that." Braddock looked confused. I laughed, walked around and patted his arm. "The military just likes those two way too much to file cases against them. Cases against me? Yes. Cases against Dad and Maes for bailing me out? Not so much."

I grabbed the pot Braddock had just finished. Looked inside and there was a rotten squirt of cherry tomato ready to be pulsed into a plant. I smiled to myself.

"Makes sense he'd want a tomato vine," I said. "Goes great on a Dagwood. Like, when I was growing up, I used to call this General Breda guy Mr. Sandwich."

"I remember," said Mikey. "Breda liked it from you. My dad got a black eye from repeating it, though."

"Nina Effect," I said.

Braddock looked back and forth from Mikey and me with a knit brow. "Wait," he said. "I didn't know you two went back."

Mikey looked a little red. "Kind of."

The door swung open. I whipped my gaze from the slate table at the sound of the heavy wooden thing slamming against the doorstop. Maes walked through like a shot bullet, in smooth, broad strides. He didn't catch my eye. Didn't catch anyone's. He went straight to his desk and flung open a deep side-drawer. He shuffled papers inside while using his other hand to collect unfinished paperwork from the desktop without looking.

"Hey, Maes?" I said. "You want to see what we came up with while you were stuck at that meeting yesterday?"

He set the papers from the drawer on his desk chair as his other hand reached for a pen and started scribbling signatures onto the paperwork on the desk simultaneously. Took me a moment to realize his eyes were vibrating, speed-reading and completing paperwork on the desk while sorting through files in the drawers and on the chair.

I took a step forward. "Hey, babe? You good? Because I would really love to show you that breakthrough we figured out while you were gone. I think we all would, am I right?"

I got some nods and grunts of agreement from the team members. Frank tacked on, "If it's convenient, Colonel," because he was a total teacher's pet.

Maes opened his mouth enough to mutter. "General."

He didn't talk again. Kept sorting papers. Kept signing paperwork. Eyes darting in their sockets fast enough to make them look like they weren't moving at all. I sucked my lip.

"Excuse me, sir?" said Frank after a moment.

Maes's features were grey and still. "They made me a general."

I sucked my lip harder.

George was the first to smile. "Congratulations on the promotion, sir!"

Maes didn't look up from his papers. Olga was the next to offer some happy congratulating. I sucked my lip harder as my team took turns telling Maes good for him with dumb excitement like they hadn't noticed he wasn't excited.

"Congratulations," said Frank. "You deserve it, Brigadier General Elric."

Maes shook his head. "No," he said. "General Elric. Just General."

"General?" George exclaimed. "Wow. Guess you got someone's attention, sir."

Maes nodded, eyes darting, hands shuffling and signing.

Frank looked the most slack-jawed I'd ever seen the guy, even more than when I'd sucked the life out of the sunflower in front of him. He stepped forward a step like he wasn't thinking about it. "General?"

Maes nodded.

My lip hurt. I stopped sucking. "Hey, you want to see our little trick now?"

"Wait," Braddock whispered at Mikey. "General? Where's that on the pyramid? I thought you had to be in the service pretty long to make it that far."

"Sure, but this is Maes Elric we're talking about," whispered Mikey. "He's going to be Fuhrer someday, I swear. That's probably why they did it. General's as high as it gets before Kingship."

"Maes," I said. "Hey, Maes?"

No answer.

"Give me a sec," I said. "Okay?"

I snapped on some latex gloves and focused my attention on the garbage bag. Had to be something corn related in there. Anything!

"See," I said, "we decided to make gifts for the higher-ups and, with you being one of them now, guess we should make you a pot too." I grasped a bag of corn chips with some large crumbs left at the bottom. "Aha!"

But when I looked around to Maes's desk, he wasn't there. He was up, folders in arms, paperwork on his desk, stacked and ready to be turned in. He was walking to the door, one arm slipping into his coat sleeve, other elbow holding files against his body as he walked.

"Hey!" I said. I held the fistful of crumbs up for him to see. "Earth to Maes. We were going to show you our progress and stuff."

Maes paused in front of the door. "I'm visiting Grandma. Sorry for the short notice. See you in a few days."

I tightened my hand around the crumbs enough to feel them crunch. "Am I supposed to laugh?"

Maes put his hand on the knob and turned it. "I leave Lt. Colonel Charlie in charge. Make sure that paperwork is submitted immediately so Armstrong and Fuery can have their uniforms altered."

George blinked. "My uniform fits just fine, sir."

Maes walked out the door like George hadn't said a thing. I shoved past Braddock and followed Maes out the door. I had to kind of run to get to him since his walking steps were the equivalent of about two and a half paces for my little legs. I got a little in front of him and stopped in his way. My fists balled at my sides, handful of corn chip crumbs still safe in my right hand. Maes halted and stared at me numbly.

"I'm in a hurry," he said.

"Yeah, General," I said. "I caught that, General. Shut up, General. What the hell is going on?"

"It can wait," he said. He had his eyes rested on me loose, not quite all the way focused, like he was making a point to make himself look like he was already down the hall away from me in spirit. "Step aside, Major Gorgeous."

"Like hell!" I said. "Seriously? You're leaving now? After last night? You're really going to leave me to my own freaking devices for three days solid without, like, any explaining besides, 'Going to Granny's, baby'? Because I am way not okay with that!" Because I'm not okay.

His expression wrinkled a little. "Spend some time with Elicia. It's just three days."

"Screw it, Maes!" I got in his face. "You're twenty one years old and you're a freaking General at Central Command! That kind of thing just doesn't happen in three puny years of service. Higher-ups don't make promotions that whopping huge just because they like you. They do it because there are high-ranking people they want you to outrank. So, what just made you so flipping important, huh? Where are you really going?"

His face sank into a frown. "I said I was going to visit Grandma. That's where I'm going, Nina. And I'm going now."

I growled. "Maes!"

He gripped my shoulder. He stepped around me. "If it were for your ears, I would've told you." His hand squeezed my shoulder. He let go. "I'll see you in three days. I love you."

My hands clenched, fingernails digging into my palms, chip crumbs crumbling, arms shaking. I didn't turn. Didn't follow. Didn't even look over my shoulder to watch him go. I gritted my teeth, eyes scrunching closed.

"Fine!" I shouted. "Go see your stupid grandma! I'll throw out all the corn in the house!"

I got back to the room and barged through the door almost half as angry as I was really feeling, which made for a pretty loud barge. George and Olga and Frank were holding paperwork from Maes's desk. Braddock and Mikey were standing back and looking at the other three in what looked like kind of disbelief.

"What's got you two so mystified?" I said.

Mikey pointed at the paperwork more than the people. "Fuery and Armstrong," he said. "They've been promoted."

George was studying a paper in his hand. "That's why the General told us we needed our uniforms altered. New ranks, new marks on our shoulders."

"Promoted?" I said. "What, you two? You're kids! Why the heck would anyone promote you! This is so unfair!"

George looked up kind of wounded and apologetic. "I'm sure you're next in line, Major."

I slammed the chip crumbs on the slate. "Damn it! I don't care about me. You got it wrong, George. You're seventeen years old! You're too young for this as it is! Things get tough and you're supposed to hang back and take care of the paperwork while the rest of us are gone doing the big jobs. Crap! Screw this whole operation! It's bad enough they went for Maes, but now they're going for the babies? Boring grown-up stuff my ass!"

"I'm not a baby," said George. His voice was a little less sweet than usual. I caught the frown creasing his mouth. He looked away. "I didn't join to stay a Private until I was thirty, ma'am. I can do more than just sort papers."

I breathed. What was I supposed to say to that? I sank against the slate table. "Georgie?"

"Yes, Major?"

"You are a baby," I said. "And the worst thing in the world would be for you to find that out."

George tensed, jaw setting, cheeks flushing. I watched his hands clenched in loose fists. First time I could remember ever seeing him angry. Frank set a hand on his shoulder.

"General Elric gave orders," said Frank. "Let's get this paperwork filed."

Frank led the way and Olga and George followed him out. I felt my own jaw setting. What was Maes thinking? George and Olga were teenagers, barely out of high school! Why were they being put in the way of more responsibility than they already had and why now? Because life's a bitch, that's why!

"Not to sound presumptuous," said Braddock, "but that wasn't too sporting, Major."

I blinked at the door. "You have no idea what you're talking about."

"I'm sure I don't," said Braddock. "And, by the looks of him, I doubt Fuery did either. He looks up to you, Major. Your approval clearly meant something to that kid. Might want to congratulate him when he gets back."

"Sometimes I have this bad feeling," I said, "that if people told me what was going on, I'd be able to help."

Mikey cleared his throat in the uncomfortable situation. "I'm going to visit the restroom."

I waved a floppy hand. "Have fun."

He reddened and left.

I yanked off the latex gloves and tossed them in the wastebasket. My heart was bumping too hard. Braddock watched me walk to my desk. I kicked off my boots and sat on top of my scattered, unfinished paperwork. Small acts of disrespect felt like I was fighting back.

Braddock fiddled with pots that were already done and didn't need to be fiddled with. "Should I," he paused, "be worried?"

I sucked my lip. "They haven't told me yet, but he's sure acting like it."

"General Elric?"

I nodded.

"Not used to seeing him so straight in the face," said Braddock. "I've only been here a week, though. What do I know?"

"Last time he looked at me like that," I blinked slowly, "was when we were waiting to die and I told him I knew how to save everyone but me."

Braddock's gaze snapped up at me. "Major?"

I hopped off the desk. The tile was cool under my bare feet, too cool. I stepped up to the slate table and took a pot in each hand.

"Let's activate some circles, yes?" I smiled. "Yes."

I took a breath. I had to concentrate to limit my transmutation to that one drawn matrix at the bottom of each pot. Underachieving actually took effort when you were used to joining the Dragon's Pulse rather than just using it as a tool.

The bottoms of the pots flashed blue tinted handheld lightning. My right hand was soon holding a pot bursting with alfalfa sprouts and fresh strawberries in the left. I set them down and moved to the next set. Braddock joined in silently and I held back a little so he'd have a fair shot. I was way quicker and more efficient at all this stuff. I'd built this circle for people it didn't come naturally to.

I backed away from the pots entirely and trailed my hand through the pile of chip crumbs I'd left at the corner of the slate. I really was going to throw out all the corn in the house before he got back. I'd have it made illegal in Amestris, too. And in Xing. Uncle Ling and Lan Fan liked me enough to pull that off for me, I reckoned. I'd offended Creta's delicate balance too many times to call in any favors there, so I'd have to find a way to contaminate their main corn manufacturing facilities.

I lay my palm flat over the crumbs like a protective blanket. No. Outlawing corn in three countries would make Maes way too sad. I'd have to settle for just outlawing it in two countries.

I felt the cold tile under my bare feet. The air was a little cool too. Felt good going down my airways. Felt good flowing out them.

"It feels so darn good, doesn't it?" I said.

"What does?"

I smiled. "Life."

I abandoned the drawn matrixes for a moment and pulsed life through the tattoos on my wrists, through my being. I breathed it in. It felt like white air. Not empty white like the Gate. It was a full white. It glowed. It throbbed with energy. It surrounded. It filled. It overflowed and it flowed back into. It breathed like water from a clear spring. It breathed like clover flowers. It breathed like green pine in the wind. It was soft like green grass, thick and dewy between splayed toes. It smelled sweet, like dark soil after summer rain. It tasted like something you couldn't name, something that was gone before you could name it. All you knew was it was fresh. It was new. No matter how old you got, your life was new with every breath you took. Life was always new. Your life was new until you were dead.

I thought of that place, the green grass, the clear streams, the white dresses and trousers and jumping bare feet. The place where the twenty-nine subjects who had once lived inside me were now. The place they got to spend their afterlives in peace. The place I still visited in my sleep when I was lucky.

Yes, your life was new until you were dead. Death wasn't the end, though. Death meant you got to live inside life instead of it living inside you. That was why they called it life's unending flow.

I could feel it. I could feel it in me. The unending. The clover.

I licked my lip. I just wanted to keep it there, hold that energy in me like a personal charge to carry in my heart, but the urge to let it continue to flow through me was too much to keep it to myself for even a moment. Stunting life forces. Cutting off flows. Redirecting them in unnatural ways. It was a dang blessing I was the only one who could do it. Because, most of the time, it felt like it should never be done. Why touch something so perfect just to rule it?

So perfect.

The one thing that never disagreed with me.

The one thing I never disagreed with.

Made my blood feel ruby red. Soft in my veins. Thoughts soft in my head. Beats warm in my heart. Warm and cool, like breezes in the backyard. Like the wind in your hair without getting your ears too cold. Just cold enough to help you wake up and hear things different. The corn chip vibrated and sprouted under my hand.

I closed my eyes and grinned.

I took a breath and allowed life through the crumbs until I could feel the growth at a gentle pace. Enough to notice under my hand. Enough to fill my hand. Ready for more. But then my heart picked up in a way I wasn't used to. It rushed over me like some pleasant kind of adrenaline. Currents of iridescent electricity shot through my soul's ruby circuit.

Something was inside me. Something that hadn't been there before. Not like this. Like, never. Something overwhelming and fragile and strong. Something light enough to lift me up. Something heavy enough to keep my feet planted.

Life.

My eyes opened.

I gasped hard as the corn chip ripped into a sprouted stalk in a blast of blue light. The stalk grew through my parted fingers. It grew tall, rooted itself into the table where it shouldn't have been able to root. It was as if whatever path I'd created had been widened mid-transmutation. The Dragon's Pulse was rushing through me like water breaking through a dam. Suddenly the stalk was tall, five feet off the table. Much taller and it would threaten to touch the ceiling. Ears sprouted from the full-grown cornstalk in perfect green oval husks. The yellow cobs bowed and hung, ripe and ready, just begging to be picked and boiled and eaten with butter.

It looked…

Appetizing.

I pulled my hand away in a jerk before I could grow a freaking field. Braddock stood with his jaw dropped and eyes wide.

"That was," he said, "impressive."

"I'm a mom," I said.

Braddock looked confused. "Come again?"

I took a shaky breath and gripped my board-flat stomach at the recent familiar feeling that my life force wasn't just mine anymore. My face ripped into a smile that almost hurt. Tears burned down my grinning cheeks. My chest broke into a sob that sounded more or less like a giggle or something.

I sniffed, palm pressed over the full white energy cozy inside my stomach.

_I'm a mommy._

* * *

**Nina's a mommy? Wat? Cliffhanger?! Really, Author?**

**For anyone who may've caught this; yes, Major Howard Bale is, in fact, ten-year-old Howard (the kid with the newspapers and a love for military crap) from 'Babysitting the Boss Guy.' No, this chapter isn't the end of him. I LOVED him in BBG. I can't leave him as a freaking jerk in FL2, now can I?**

REPLIES!

AllINoIsImNotAwsome: Just can't seem to make things a hundred percent seriousness with those two.

author12306: Why, thank you! What else can I say? XD

SilverPedals1402: Maes and Nina are kind of recipes for cliffhangers, am I right?

KTrevo: Thanks for the support! I write my novel and I think of my readers on here and I'm like, "They'd love this."

Cap'nHoozits: Thanks! I'm glad you liked FL. As for Phil, his love for pasta makes me want gluten.

mixmax300: Y'know, I sometimes have this impulse to dedicate a fic just to Phil. And his favorite restaurants around Central.

Harryswoman: Thank you :) Haha, my back's fine. Just...noisy.

naes cornstang: explanation- They did not have a child. Yet. All that time Nina said she wasn't ready to be a mom because she didn't want to face that she couldn't have kids.

DanniMaeAnime92: Aw! Hope this chapter made you feel better :)

Madje Knotts: I want that recipe of yours SO BAD right now! And I want fried rice... Crap. My stomach just growled. I see what I do to you people.

RainFlame: Wow, I was actually in the middle of deciding how involved I wanted Al to be in this plot. Thanks for helping me decide!

'Guest': Ha! Nina's reaction to getting pregnant: Grows a five foot cornstalk in her office on accident.

awesomenaruto: People say, 'Can't wait!' and I feel a little cheeky for cliffies :)

**I 'updated' my FL trailer into an all around practice4morale fanart slideshow. Got spoiler art for this fic, Drastic Measures on dA, and AB maybe a little, so don't click it unless you...enjoy spoilers?**

**CHALLENGE: The protagonist in my novel is a fan of a nineties grunge band. One of the band's trademarks is giving their songs/albums weird titles (Eg. '_She Thinks My Straightjacket's Sexy,' or maybe, 'Mustachioed Traffic Cone'_). Give me some crazy creative material and I'll add your suggestions to my title bank where I regularly pick songs to feature in my manuscript :D **

**I look forward to seeing what you guys come up with!**


	5. News

**A/N: Sorry for the wait. Went through a swing of depression, the lethargic kind this time. Made my head slow. Better than the sad or numb kinds, though, am I right? Anyway, I'll try not to make a habit outta sparse updates from here on. Try :)**

**Long chapter! More important, fun chapter! Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 5: News

I had to ask myself now that I was in the middle of it; what could be more excruciatingly difficult than sitting around catching up with your Mommy-Elric and sister in-law and not mentioning the new freaking life pulsing with raw energy inside you? Few things, my friend. Few things.

I wanted to tell them. Damn, I was chomping at the bit. I wanted to scamper around telling everyone! But Maes had been bright enough to take off to see Grandma Teacher about the kind of exact time said life happened, and I, in all my sore-backed glory, had not seen it as wise to run after him to tell him the news. Of course, I'd run all the way to the train station in the snow and been told Maes's train took off ten minutes ago before I had _not seen it as wise_, which probably wasn't the best idea considering I was officially pregnant in a major way, but come on! He was a dad! And, let's be honest. What was more important? Surprise baby or the fate of Amestris? I thought the answer to that was pretty clear.

Plus, I wanted to tell people! Like my mom. I'd left her in the hall with the notion that Maes and I were as barren as her and Dad. I wanted her to be the second to hear the news, the third person in the world to know. But I had to tell Maes first. No doubt about that. It was the pecking order in these situations. First, Mommy-to-be figures it out. Second, she tells Daddy-to-be and they get all happy and weepy and excited together. Then and only then does Grandma-to-be hear the news.

Maes would hear it first. No question about it.

Unfortunately, there was the matter of I'd kind of more or less dropped some slight hints in Major Braddock's presence after, you know, growing the five foot stalk of corn on the trial table in the office. Not anything too obvious. I mean, I'd covered my tracks pretty good afterward.

"I'm a mommy," I'd said.

He'd been like, "What?"

And I'd been all, "Oh, my freaking God! I'm, like, fertile! Wait. Forget I said that. But holy crap! I'm so preggers I could cry! Oh, jeez! I am crying! Quit looking at me, Braddock. You didn't hear anything. But seriously, how soon does that morning sickness stuff set in, because vomiting is not fun, am I right? Babies vomit a lot. Trust me. I've had the joy of babysitting my brother in-laws. Reflux is not a pretty thing. But it's different than adult puke. It's all sour-milky and adorable. I came home smelling like fresh baby. And then, Skylar was a drooler. Went through, like, ten bibs a day. Disgusting. It was beautiful. And, no, there is no particular reason I'm talking about this. Dear God! I'm a Mom! Whoa, I was totally not serious right then. Fooled you, huh? Yep, I just love my husband's baby brothers; that's all. All cute and brown haired and big-eyed. They don't look like Maes at all, which pretty much means they don't look like Uncle Ed. They definitely don't take after Aunt Winry, though. I've seen pictures of Uncle Ed's mommy. They totally look like her. I wonder what my baby's going to look like. You know, I kind of used to want my kids to look like my biological parents so if I had a boy he could be a leprechaun when he was forty, but I'm kind of liking the idea of mini-Nina and mini-Maes. That would be weird, wouldn't it? Because they'd be siblings and really way not married? But they'd look like us? Ew! No. No mini Naes's. Gross. Shut your mouth, Braddock. I didn't say anything. What baby? There's no baby here. Oh, frack! I'm crying again. Trust me. These are not tears of joy. I can't make babies. We tried. Like, three months. Three frickin' months and nothing. Just talking about babies makes me cry all over the place as of last night when Maes informed me I had a problem with denial and such, which was true. I'm a mature human being. I can admit when I'm wrong. Which is why your assumption that I'm crying happy tears over the fact that I'm knocked up after two years of knocked-upping just not happening is totally dumb and untrue. Jeez, would you quit bugging me about it? Everyone knows that the baby-daddy gets to hear the news first in these stupid situations, Braddock. Not that there is a baby. Or a daddy. Just saying. Oh, shoot! What do I do? Childbirth hurts, doesn't it? I know these things, Braddock. It's awful. I was in the room when Aunt Winry popped the twins out. It was the ugliest thing I have ever seen. Okay, total lie. But still! They call that natural? Like a walrus through a keyhole! Two walruses! That's how Uncle Ed described it. It was so gross. I don't know how she survived. Oh, my God! I'm a mom! Holy dang. Should we open a bottle of champagne? Ha! Fooled you didn't I? You thought I was making a joke about pregnant women not drinking alcohol while pregnant, but it was really just a joke because I get drunk on, like, two sips of beer. So I don't do toasts. Except bread. Ha! Another joke! Screw you, Major. You just don't know when to quit, do you? I'm not on any kind of nest here. You're a nest! So there! Oh, man. I'm going to be fat. I've never been fat before. What's it like? Ha! That was an insulting joke alluding to the fact that you're fat. Were you ever fat, Braddock? Like a chubby child? Adolescent pre growth-spurt awkwardness? Yes? No? No. I don't see you as a fat person. I'm not pregnant. Who's pregnant? Bet you'll be shocked when I tell you I'm pregnant in a few days after I've told Maes, am I right? Don't answer that. You don't know anything. Oh, crap! I should try to catch up with Maes and tell him the news before he shoves off! Maybe he'll stick around! I mean, who cares about the fate of Amestris? I don't. Okay, I do. Shut up! I need to catch up with Maes and tell him something that is not about me being pregnant. At all."

And Braddock had been like, "Um. Okay."

And I'd been like. "Yeah, you better think it's okay!"

Yep, after a cover-up like that, I figured he didn't suspect a thing.

Now I had pint-sized Avery bouncing on my knees because my knees were too small to bounce him on just one like my dad did. Avery liked bouncing like he was riding a horsey. Skylar liked being rocked like he was riding in a boat. Skylar tended to prefer Maes's boat to mine. Maes was like a ship. I was more of a dinghy.

Sophie was letting Skylar play with her facial piercings while she unashamedly described the house parties she'd been throwing under her mother's roof back in Risembool. Aunt Winry was sitting rigidly on the couch next to her, trying very hard to be a cool mom. I was having fun imagining Avery was mini-Naes.

"…So then Brendon asked for my number," Sophie rattled on. "And I was like, what the hell? You live, like, two doors down. Are you asking for my number because you're lazy, or does getting Sophie Elric's digits really hold that much status for the male category in this town? If it's the latter, give me a pen!"

Aunt Winry got delighted. "You were interested this time?"

Sophie was wild and slutty and dressed like a high-class stripper, but, too her mother's despair, she had better things to do than to carry relationships beyond making out in the closet with whatever guy she'd landed at spin the bottle.

Sophie's eyes rolled in an angry way. "Please. I'm too young for that shit." She smothered her baby brother's full cheeks with kisses contaminated with an excessive amount of lip rings and studs. "Right Skylar?"

"Shit!" said Skylar in a giggle.

"Shit!" Avery repeated.

They both directed their eyes to their mother all proud of themselves. Those two had recently started to pay attention to what words got a reaction out of Mommy. They hadn't exactly learned the difference between good reactions and bad yet.

"It's pronounced, shoot," Aunt Winry said with an unfazed smile.

"Shoot!" the boys repeated together.

Aunt Winry's constant correction like that was probably how Maes had turned out with a minimalistic potty mouth. Sophie cursed like her dad. Worse, a lot of the time. My mouth smiled, because with me around, there was a steady chance my kid's first words would be on the explicit side.

I hugged Avery's warm body and nuzzled his hair. So silky soft. Smelled like baby shampoo. Elric babies were so cuddly. Avery had recently learned to give kisses. Before, he'd seemed to think biting was the equivalent of a kiss. Now, you asked him for a kissy and he'd peck your cheek with an audible, "Ma," sound. Nothing like it, feeling those little beaked lips, hearing him narrate his smooch. Almost melancholy how wonderful it was.

"Hey, Avery," I said. "Can Nina have a kissy?"

He stood on my lap and kissed my cheek with his little hand on my face.

"Thank you," I said.

He sat back down and smiled with his baby teeth showing. "You're welcome," he said all squeaky. I kissed his cheek and he said, "Thank you."

I said, "You're welcome, nugget."

"Does it make you want one?" said Sophie with an arched studded brow. "Hint. Hint, hint, hint."

"Yep," I said. I swallowed. "Eventually."

"No pressure," said Aunt Winry. Her hungry smile indicated otherwise.

It was weird, Aunt Winry talking about grandchildren. My Mom made sense bugging me about it every once in a while. She was early fifties with a daughter grown up and married. Mom had baby withdrawal. Grandbabies made sense with her.

Aunt Winry was early forties with two kids just out of the house and two kids practically just out of the womb. She'd gotten her start in the world a little on the early side. That made sense. How she got impatient over getting an early start as a granny was kind of beyond me, though. Did she seriously want her sons to be barely three years older than their niece or nephew?

Well, a little late to stop that from happening.

Part of me sort of knew a big part of her was just still getting over the excitement that Maes was going to live to be a dad.

"Man," said Sophie. "I am so ready to be the cool aunt. Cool big sister? Awesome! Cool Auntie? Dude, that's a new dynamic I could stand to experience. I'd own that position. I mean, not that I'll have any competition. Unless Mom and Dad plan on making another surprise in the near future."

Aunt Winry laughed flat. "Nice one, honey."

Uncle Ed and Aunt Winry liked to do that, pretend they were tired old parents who'd made twins by complete accident and found little humor in it. They liked the joking and the sarcasm. It was a novelty to them. They'd apparently been the too-young couple back when Maes and Sophie were kids, the couple that had gotten pregnant out of wedlock, kids raising kids. Being viewed as the older, wiser brand of parents seemed to bring them a heck of a lot of satisfaction.

But I knew how they were behind the scenes. I remembered how they'd been when they'd figured it out, that they'd fertilized again. It was like the fact that they hadn't done the new-parent thing in eighteen years didn't even cross their minds, like that worry stuff or the, 'Whoa, we totally did not mean for this to happen,' wasn't a thing with them. They'd found out they were having twins and it was like their happiness had _tripled_. Most parents would be worried they'd gone in over their heads with something so freaking unplanned and very much unanticipated.

Watching them through the pregnancy and after the birth, how the Elric's raised their kids in the early stages, told me a thing or two about Maes, why he was the way he was. They saw their babies with this gentle love that never forgot those little lives were miracles. They didn't just see a future for their kids. They saw a purpose hidden within every day. Skylar and Avery had value without even having to try. And, somehow, having parents who saw them through that mindset seemed to make Skylar and Avery have some supernatural desire to live every day with purpose. Even as toddlers, you could see how much joy they got from Mommy's and Daddy's smiles. You could see they knew they were loved.

"It's getting a smidge late in the day," I said. "When do you figure Uncle Ed plans on getting home? I thought he'd take off early with Sophie here and all. Well, then again, meetings."

Avery looked up at me. "Dada?"

Aunt Winry's brow pinched like I'd said something a little on the odd side of the spectrum. "Dada's not coming home today, remember? He and big bro-bro had business. They won't be back until after the weekend."

Okay, was she talking to me, or the twins? "Wait, how come Uncle Ed got to be Maes's travel-buddy? I made it somewhat extremely clear I didn't want to be on my own for three stupid days. Maes never mentioned anything about having room for traveling companions."

Aunt Winry blinked. "Well, sure. Maes was the only one headed for Dublith, last I checked. Maesy didn't explain when he got home from work yesterday? Ed left last night on an evening train. That's why I was so tied up getting Sophie on my own this morning. He should be in Xing with Alphonse sometime in the wee hours of tomorrow."

"Xing?" I said.

"Xing?" said Avery.

"Sking?" said Skylar.

"It's pronounced, Xing, baby," said Aunt Winry with a fond smile Skylar's way.

"Xing, baby!" said Skylar.

"What the hell!" I said. "No, Maes did not explain! He freaking explained nothing! Since when did he make a habit of bluffing my ass off in the middle of a crisis? General? Seriously? He knew this would happen. Why the heck didn't he tell me?"

I couldn't believe it. Our child was the result of fricking stress sex! That was either completely terrible or seriously the best thing ever.

"That is it!" I shouted. "I'm outlawing corn in Creta!"

Corn. Corn? Corn! No. No, no, no. This wasn't happening. The word '_corn'_ left my mouth and circled my thoughts and I swore I salivated. Sweet, crunchy, golden goodness. Oh, this wasn't happening. It was like Maes was somewhere laughing at me. Worse than him lying and bluffing and leaving and letting those jerks turn him into a freaking higher-up; he'd impregnated me with corn cravings!

This was some kind of placebo. I was missing him and worrying about him and maybe just hating him just a little bit perhaps. Cravings didn't happen this early, right? I mean, it hadn't even been a day! Right? Right? Right.

"Nina?" said Sophie. "You okay, girl?"

"No, I am not okay!" I said.

"Not!" said Avery with an angry pout.

"Me and baby-cakes are going to the hospital!" I said. I stood up with Avery hugged in my arms. "To get our corn receptors surgically removed! By technology!"

"Techpolopy!" said Avery.

"Shoot!" said Skylar.

"Um," said Aunt Winry. "Do I need to make tea?"

Sophie cackled. "You and bro must've had one hell of a piss off!"

"What a freaking screw-up!" I said. "I want a divorce! No I don't. I want to tell him I do just to make him cry! No, I really don't. Saddest most sad thing ever. Big gold blinkers all wet and trembly and stuff. What the hell was all that last night about me being a growth? I need to call Uncle Xing. I'm outlawing corn!"

I set Avery down and headed for the kitchen phone. I heard Sophie laughing to her mom, saying, "Jeez. It's like a one-man theater rendition of you and Dad talking automail maintenance." Aunt Winry didn't say anything because she was probably busy worrying if me and Maes were really on good terms. Probably wanted to get to the phone first to call my mom up and have a brief-ish dual mother in-law maternal worry gossip fest. Or maybe it just freaked her out that Maes hadn't told me like she'd assumed he had. Maybe the fact that I was freaking out in a major way had tipped her off that not everything had been explained to_ her_.

I dialed in the relatively pricy long-distance code and dialed for the palace. It took a steady ten minutes of red tape before I got Uncle Ling on the line. Sophie watched with a smirk from the kitchen door as I practically snorted steam into the receiver.

"Hey!" said Ling's chipper voice into my ear. "Nina! Long time no speak. How's it going? You miss Xing yet?"

I rolled my eyes. "Seriously, you need to stop hoping. Your country sucks."

"Oh, come on," he whined. "Accidents happen. One brief encounter with terrorists…"

"Eight weeks, Uncle Moron," I said. "Eight flipping weeks and a sword through the stomach. Not my idea of a good time."

"You know, that sort of thing doesn't tend to happen around here on a regular basis." He chuckled. "Tell you what. I didn't want to have to pull out the big guns this early in the game, but since I'm fond of you, what would you say if I told you I could get you a choice discount on this spring's nine-week tour of the fifty clans?"

"I'll pass."

He used some beckoning tone. "You don't know what you're missing."

"You really can't stand the idea of there being a single human being out there who isn't in love with your country, can you?"

"Well, naturally."

"You're not exactly fond of mine."

"Well, of course not," he said. "You guys have some major problems. I mean, what with previous conspiracies and that nasty civil war a few decades ago. And don't even get me started on a certain past Fuhrer being a secret homunculus."

"Oh, right," I said. "And that's so different than a certain emperor currently infused with a Philosopher's Stone."

"Exactly right," said Ling. "I've never been secretive about it. Not in the slightest."

"Which kind of led up to my terrorist abduction and impalement in the first place, Mister Talkative."

He paused. "I see your point." He sighed. "So, what did you really call to talk about, Nina?"

"I want you to ban corn in Xing."

He laughed. "You had a fight with Maes again, didn't you?"

I sucked my lip. "Will you do it?"

"I'll think about it." He paused. "Maybe I'll consider it a little further if you agree to become my campaign manager for the corn ban? Bring the rest of the Elric clan with you, if it's not too much trouble."

"Nice try, Uncle. You're not some kind of democracy over there. You don't need any kind of campaign for this crap. Jeez. Why don't you just visit us if you're so damn lonely over there?"

"Are you kidding? Amestris is way too complicated to waste a vacation there."

"So," I said, "in other words, you're lazy."

I could hear the smile in his voice. "A little bit, yeah."

"Then quit making all of us feel guilty for not coming to see you enough!"

"Ah! So it's working!"

"Dammit, Ling!"

"How's my old pal Ed doing?" he said. "Still keeping up with those little accidents of his?"

"Which ones?" I said.

Seriously, Sophie had been the only planned pregnancy on the Elric-baby list. Even my little baby Naes had been an accident, come to think of it. I mean, technically Maes and I were carrying on the Elric accidental knock-up tradition here.

I shifted one of my hands under my collar and pressed it to my heart. I felt the baby living in my life, that beautiful fullness. That area centered at my chest seemed to be the best access point for my personal life force. Whether it was out of familiarity from the time I'd spent accessing the other subjects in my life force or whether it really did offer a more direct connection, there was no telling. The tattoos on my wrists were convenient and acted to control the flow of energy through my hands, but if Maes had let me use a matrix over my heart, I'd have been able to explore my baby's life force hands free whenever I wanted. And maybe I could've taught the baby to explore mine.

"You know what Ling?" I said. "You and Lan Prawn aren't like Selim Bradley. You aren't born homunculi. You could be human again. If that happened, you could even have children someday."

I heard Ling make a gulping sound. He didn't answer.

I sucked my lip. "In all seriousness, your country's terrorist problem is over. You kept immortality to become some kind of unwavering stability while your people made the hard adjustment of not assassinating each other for the sake of political stuff. There's peace, Uncle Ling. You've been fifteen for nearly three decades. Your work is kind of done and you've got a lot of loyal subjects who aren't going to let it regress. It's time to grow up, sweet pea. Don't you think?"

There was a patch of silence. Ling took a shaky breath. He let it out in a huff. He spoke.

"Well, if it'll get you to come to Xing, I guess I can consider it."

I pumped a fist in the air. "Hell yeah!"

I heard one of the twins yelling, "Hell yeah!" from the living room. I laughed.

"Can't lie," I said. "I'm going to miss calling you Uncle Homunculus."

"I only said I'd consider it. Eventually," he said. "It's not exactly a small matter, Nina."

"Yeah, yeah," I said. "We all know what's going to go down. You'll brood over it. Weigh the outcomes. Weigh the sacrifices made to get the stupid immortality status in the first place. You'll feel guilty. Visit your old vassal-man's grave all reverent and junk. Feel extra guilty. Then you'll have a heartfelt, dang serious conversation with Miss Lan Fan and she'll give you sage wisdom. You'll ask her what she wants. She'll be all acting like the concept of doing what she wants is a foreign thing for her. Ha! Foreign. Because you guys are foreigners. And then she'll say you're the Emperor and she just wants to be by your side no matter what and it's your decision. Then she'll drop some giant hints she wants you both to be human again and you'll eventually take said hints and before you know it, you'll be calling me up like, get your butt to Xing, Nina. We've made up our minds!"

"You really are a kid, aren't you?" he said flatly.

"Says the kid!"

"Technically, I'm forty two."

"Ew."

"Was that all, Nina?"

I frowned. "Was that all? I kind of just offered to normalize your life force, buddy."

He chuckled. "Yes, I suppose you did."

"Suppose. Unbelievable."

"Thank you, Nina," he said after a while. "I received this body knowing that there would be no turning back, but I'll admit I may have thought twice about it had I seen my life this far down the line."

"No, really?" I smirked. "Okay, one thing before I hang up."

"Yes?"

"In a few years, when you two are older and over the fact that she was pretty much old enough to be your mother for a while there, you sure as hell better ask Lan Fan to be your woman, because if you don't, I will do it on your behalf. Okay. That's all. Bye!"

"Wait, what? Nina!"

I hung up with a climactic slam. I rolled my shoulders back and sighed all satisfied. I'd been dying to say that to those losers for years. Maes just never let me. Said to let things run their course, or some bull philosophy like that.

"Wow," said Sophie from the door. "Bravo to you, girl."

"Everyone's been thinking it," I said.

"I'll drink to that," said Sophie.

"You'll drink to anything."

"And you say it like it's a bad thing."

I wanted to tell her I couldn't drink and I wanted to tell her why that was exactly. I frowned to myself, because I was starting to consider telling Maes the news over the phone and I knew deep down I wanted to tell him in person. I wanted to see his face get exuberant and feel his big tight hug and kiss his smile and tease him when he inevitably tried to feel the baby while my tummy was still flat. I wanted to eat loaves of cornbread with him afterward.

Shut up. No I didn't. Frack.

I wanted to slap him for leaving before I could break the news and get on with telling everyone else. I wanted to throttle him for keeping junk from me. I wanted to distract my brain from the fact that he may just have outright lied to me about stuff and I wanted to hide at the thought that something big enough was going on to make Maes Elric fib to his wife.

I wanted to call Uncle Ling back up and ask him just how much he knew, but there was no need, because that last phone call had said it all. Whatever foreign relations conflict Maes had hinted at last night, Xing obviously hadn't been part of it. Ling had been so none-the-wiser on the phone, it had almost been disgusting.

What got me above anything, though, wasn't that the foreign relations we were dealing with had nothing to do with Xing. It was that Xing hadn't even been informed Amestris was having problems with another country. Maes had been turned from a Colonel to a General in one afternoon. And whatever the promotion had been for, it had been deemed too dangerous to discuss with our country's most trusted ally.

"Hey, Nina," said Sophie. I looked up. She was standing about a foot across from me with her hip cocked and her arms folded in a kind of pissy and serious way. She puffed a sigh. "Can we, like, do dinner out or something? I think Mom's tired. I don't want to make her cook."

For a fleeting moment, my heart sank. Aunt Winry prepared corn like a pro with over twenty years of experience behind her belt. Mostly because she was a pro with over twenty years of corn experience behind her belt.

I frowned. "Yeah, let's ditch this place. I don't have to eat corn when he's not around. That's my choice, okay?"

Sophie blinked. "Right…"

About two seconds after Aunt Winry told us our cab had arrived, Sophie put her finger up and said, "Oh, yeah, give me a sec. I better grab my suitcase. I've decided to stage a sleepover at Nina and Maes's townhouse. It smells less like potty training over there. Bye Mom. Bye boys. Don't miss me too much."

Yeah, that's how it went down.

Sophie spent the cab ride silently painting her toenails red against the back of the driver's headrest. Which was pretty great besides the fact that the chemicals from the polish turned out making the driver light-headed and we swerved on the road a few good times. Sophie just kept polishing, studded lips curled in a satisfied smile.

We walked into my dark townhouse. The moment the lights were flicked on and the door was secured behind us, Sophie was dormant no longer.

She threw her suitcase on the couch. "Alright. I'm so not going out again tonight."

I threaded my coat off my arms. "Me neither. What kind of take-out do you want?"

Sophie slumped into the giant leather armchair that Maes and I usually shared when he felt like doing something boring like reading and when I just felt like eating potato chips on top of him to purposely get crumbs on his lap.

"Get Xingese," Sophie said. "Risembool sucks at cheap Xingese take-out."

"We're having pasta," I said. "Meatballs or pesto?"

Sophie rolled her eyes. "Anything with garlic. Lots of garlic."

I dialed it in. I'd been ordering take-out from _The Noodle Shack_ since I was tall enough to reach the phone. I knew that restaurant's number better than my own home address.

"Hey, this is Nina," I said the moment I heard the phone pick up. "I want the usual. At my new address. Not the Fuhrer one. The wife one. Put it on my tab. I don't have cash anywhere convenient right now."

Sophie looked at me all skeptical after I'd hung up. "What's the usual?"

"Oh," I said, sitting on the couch. "I just order everything on the menu. It's easier that way."

"How are you not fat?"

"Early childhood malnutrition does wonders for permanently flummoxing a girl's metabolism."

Sophie arched a brow.

"I'm, like, five feet tall," I said.

She sighed. "I see your point."

I hugged my knees to my chest and looked over at her. "So, what did you want to talk about?"

Sophie looked at me. "Hm?"

"You're kind of acting like something's on your mind just a bit." I shrugged. "Care to share?"

Sophie's mouth was tight like she was not the most comfortable. She looked away. "Okay. Let's cut the crap."

"Consider it cut."

She frowned to herself. "This stays between us, okay?"

"Okay."

"Maes called me at the crack of dawn this morning. Said I needed to come to Central for a few weeks."

The crack of dawn? _This_ morning? I sharpened my gaze. "Why?"

"I'm not supposed to say too much."

"And, yet, here we are."

Sophie folded her arms in this sort of anxious way. "Look, I'd already scheduled visiting this April. I mean, I had plans in Risembool this weekend. Got so pissed off when Maes called to tell me he needed me in Central on the double, I think I flustered him and he ended up telling me more than he meant to."

My hand hovered over my flat stomach. "What did he say? You're talking about _this_ morning?"

"He said it had to be today. I had to get here before he left for Grandma's…"

Wait, he'd called Sophie at dawn. So, he'd known he was going to Dublith before he'd even left for work that morning? He'd acted so natural!

"Why'd he go to Grandma's?" I said.

"Yeah, like he'd tell me," Sophie said with a snort. "And, no, I have no idea why Dad went to my uncle's in Xing, either."

"It's alchemy," I said. "What else, am I right?"

"Maes told me," said Sophie, "that he needed me here today because he didn't feel good about leaving you alone for three days and he didn't trust you to reach out to anyone while he was gone."

I shook my head all scolding. "They say trust is the very foundation upon which strong relationships are built."

Sophie smirked. "He trusts you to act like yourself, sis."

I leaned my head back and groaned. "A babysitter? He sent you here to be my babysitter for three days? I thought things were getting exciting. This is your idea of cutting crap?"

Sophie straightened. "Hey, don't insult me! There's no way I'm responsible enough to be trusted as a babysitter!" She turned her head and grumbled. "Besides, I'm not finished. I said Maes told me more than he meant to, remember? There's more."

"I'm sorry. I love you. Keep talking."

There was a knock at the door. I perked up.

"On second thought," I said, "shut your face. Food's here!"

"That was…" Sophie made a face that said _this is sketchy_, "really quick."

"Oh, totally," I said, hopping up. "They make all their delicious junk, like, five days ahead of time and just stick it in the microwave when people order. They've got the same basic stuff in the freezer section at Central's big-ass grocery store but for half the price."

Sophie looked to the side all bored. "Excellent. I have a sister in-law with even worse taste in meal-plans than big bro. What are the odds?"

I tossed a grin at her over my shoulder. "Tell me that after you've tried their beef stroganoff, darling."

Sophie had been an off-and-on vegetarian until she'd started hanging out more with my dad. Uncle Sparky, she called him. She'd seen his plate at my wedding reception, all stacked with corned beef and steak and red sausages from the buffet, stuff he wasn't supposed to eat because of cholesterol and heartburn and midlife crisis; stuff he'd totally made off with that day when my mom hadn't been looking. And Sophie had realized that, if he'd been allowed, my dad would've lived off of red meat alone. So, she became his steak buddy out of sheer respect for the man's resolve.

Sophie was a fairly normal person compared to her big brother, but the category of things that left her impressed screamed _Maes Effect_.

After saying a heartfelt goodbye with my deliveryman, I set the steaming bag of goodness on the coffee table and we dug in with the included plastic forks. Well, I dug in. Sophie spent a minute questioning what was edible, then spent the better part of fifteen minutes devouring the daylights out of the stroganoff along with three meatballs after her first nibble.

"Oh my God!" she said. She waved a hand at her mouth like she was holding back tears. "How is this so good?"

"Probably artificial flavoring," I said. I stuffed a corn fritter into my mouth, almost big enough to pop my jaw from having to open so wide. "Gift to mankind, am I right?"

Sophie paused in her meal and I wondered if me talking with my mouth full enough to make me gag was really repulsive or something. Her mouth hung open a little. She pointed at me with her disposable fork.

"Is that a," she said, "corn fritter?"

I nodded as I chewed. I licked my finger. "They added it to the menu after Maes came into the picture. I hear they got pretty popular."

"Yeah, but you just ate one."

"You want me to save them for Maes? They'll be gross. Plus, he might enjoy them."

Sophie folded her arms. "I figured you'd have dumped them down the disposal by now. You hate corn."

"I don't hate corn," I said. "I'm just sick of it. I hate how he's always trying to get me to eat it with him and gets all personally hurt when I say I'm sick of the stuff."

"I hear you on that," Sophie said with a chuckle. Her expression fell. "But seriously? You ate it."

"Corn fritters are good," I said. Popped another in my mouth and sighed. "Really good."

"Okay, what's going on?" she said. "I'd say it's because you miss him, but all I've ever seen you do with corn when you're missing my brother is burn it in the backyard and dance around its ashes."

"That was one time!" I said. "A neighbor saw the smoke and called the fire department on me. Now I do it in _Selim's_ backyard, thank you very much."

Sophie arched a brow. Just waiting. My hand found its way to my stomach. Had corn really turned into that big of a giveaway for me?

Yeah. Okay. I could see how that had worked out.

"And another thing," said Sophie. "Earlier today, you really seemed to have a handle on outlawing corn in Xing, but then you backed off. What's up with that? Jeez, Nina! What's wrong with you? Are you sick or something? You've been acting," Sophie shuddered, "soft."

"You sound like General Ice Bitch."

Sophie smiled distantly. "That woman is a god. Dad says she makes grown men cry."

"You do too."

"I mean without violence or turning down dates." Sophie laughed a little evil. "She brings men to tears with the sheer force of her glare. I'd die for that woman." Sophie dropped the evil expression and smirked. "No, I wouldn't. I'd save my ass and visit her grave."

My nose wrinkled. "You two would get along splendidly."

Sophie sighed. "What were we talking about?"

I tapped my lip and mumbled, "I wonder what would happen if I put a boiled corn cob on a stick in the freezer and dipped it in chocolate."

"Corn?"

"Nothing."

"That's right. We were talking about corn fritters." Sophie folded her legs all casual. "Forget the corn. We were talking about Maes a second ago. Let's talk about that."

My felt my shoulders tighten. That. I took a breath. Her eyes slowly trailed down until she was looking at her knees. She looked kind of vulnerable, which was different for her.

"See, when I flipped out over him calling me so early and, you know, the short notice thing," she extended her foot in front of her and inspected her red toenails like a nervous compulsion, "well, he said something about how it wasn't all that bad seeing as the Central Court Marshall's Office would probably have called me into Central by this afternoon anyway and it was better coming from him. And I was thinking, now, why the hell would the military be making a call to a soldier's little sister to arrange for her to stay with her sister in-law for a few days? Maes sounded tired on the line. I'd thought maybe he'd misspoken, so I casually voiced his 'mistake' about the Court Marshall thing. But he actually took it seriously! Got really flustered. You know how he gets."

"Talks about what he had for breakfast and his dreams for the future? Yeah. I know how he gets." I grabbed another corn fritter and munched like a hamster. My mind raced.

"He ended up spilling about having _business_ with Grandma," said Sophie. "Before he'd just said he was going on a _visit_. I thought his choice of words was weird, so I asked him about it and he said, 'business,' was a figure of speech. Okay, Maes is good at lying. He's got to be way off his game for me to be able to tell that easily that he's trying to throw me off of something touchy."

I thought back to our tearful, God-awful night that had led up to that morning phone call with Sophie. It would've put any person off his game.

"Then I get to Central," said Sophie, "and Mom tells me Dad's on the Desert Rail? Before lunch, the Court Marshall's office called me at my parents' phone number! How the hell did they know I was even there? I know, right? Here I thought I was just visiting my big sister for a few days." Her tone was sarcastic. "Jeez. Can you be any more obvious? Next thing I know, they're asking all these questions about my birth date and social security number. I was like, hell no. This is a scam, right? You're not really the Court Marshall's. So I hung up. But, what do you know? They called back and, sure enough, they had your mom on the line. I'd recognize that smooth tone anywhere. Turns out they needed info to update my passport. Like, huh? And, get this. Before the call ended, I swear I overheard someone say something about _General_ Elric's younger sister being on the line. _General_."

I told myself to stop panicking. I told myself in my head until my mouth started shaping the words without my voice. 'Stop panicking.'

My breath quickened and my skin prickled with unwarranted sweat. All this adrenaline couldn't be good for the baby. I slid my hand under my collar and felt for Naes's force. I closed my eyes and breathed easy.

"Um," said Sophie, "Nina?"

I opened my eyes and said softly, "You said they needed your passport information up to date?"

"Uh, yeah." Her brow furrowed. "You have any idea what that means?"

I thought back to earlier, how Frank had mentioned the Court Marshall's Office had been asking for updates on the team's personal info. Info that could've gone for passports. I exhaled through my nose.

"It means foreign relations." My eyes drifted to the door. "If I had to take a guess, I'd say it has to do with Uncle Ed's life force, in your case."

Sophie's hands tightened kind of defensive. She looked displeased. "What do they want with my dad's life force? That's over."

"I doubt it's about him," I said. "I'm talking about your involvement more than anything. When Maes was about to die that time, it was up to you to perform the transmutation that transferred a portion of Uncle Ed's life force into Maes's circuit. Even though it wasn't a complete success, what with you only being able to transfer that portion Uncle Ed had separated himself after getting skewered in Baschool, you still performed the closest thing really known to dividing a life force between multiple circuits."

Sophie's face turned red in an angry way. "How'd the military know about that? Uncle Wet Match promised Dad he wouldn't tell!"

"Then it was Maes," I said. I took a shaky breath. "It was him. He told."

Sophie looked at me all unstable and a little on the scared side. Bringing up that day when she'd unknowingly turned her dad into an invalid never ceased to hurt her.

"I don't," she said, "understand."

"I'm sure Maes talked it over with your dad first," I said. "Got permission. I mean, the fact that Uncle Ed's headed to Xing right now confirms they're in tandem. But, no. Maes was the strategist in this one. Maes is the one who got promoted to General and hid things from his wife when he got home. This is about life forces. It has to be." I closed my eyes. A shiver went up my spine. "He's protecting me."

I was beginning to understand. Maes was gathering up every brain on the map that knew a fraction of what I did. He was trying to eliminate the place only I could fill. He was making me unnecessary.

So, why had he shot me down last night when I'd mentioned retiring?

"So," said Sophie. "The '_General_ Elric' thing. How?"

I shook my head. "He's too young. He's too new. This kind of promotion has to break some codes. Besides that, it seems a little over the top, you know? Like, they didn't need to put him all the way at the top of the food chain to make him a higher-up. Obviously status isn't all they were after."

"Wow," said Sophie. "You really know this stuff."

I shrugged. "Not like I memorized the manual or whatever. Just the world I was raised in."

"You think your dad might be stepping down?" said Sophie suddenly. "Like, I hear a lot of bullshit talk about Maes being Fuhrer someday. Maybe they wanted him to be next in line!"

I rolled my eyes. "Just no."

Sophie sulked. "Then what? Got anything better?"

"Look, what I said about foreign relations," I said. My eyes darted like a reflex to make sure no one was listening in. I took a purposeful breath. "Earlier today, when I called Uncle Ling, getting corn outlawed wasn't my main goal, just an impulse."

"Yeah?"

"Otherwise, I totally would've followed through."

"That's my girl!"

"Maes gave me hints last night," I said. "He hinted around about him being busy at meetings because Amestris was having issues with a foreign country or two. Or three. Whatever. I talked to Ling mostly to get an idea of how much he'd been included in those issues."

"Whoa, seriously?" said Sophie. "You were using interrogation tactics on Uncle Ling? Did it work?"

"Yeah. Xing's not involved yet. At all. Uncle Ling doesn't even know your dad's on his way to the Chang District."

"Oo." Sophie winced. "He hates being left out of the loop."

"You're telling me. Pansy. What a woman." I sucked my lip. "Actually, I'm not too happy about it either this time. Xing's our friendliest ally. I'd say keeping them in the dark about foreign relations may be a good sign if it means the issue is too trivial to bother them with, but the issue's not trivial. That much is getting painfully obvious. That means, whatever the higher-ups are having meetings about, it's too sensitive to let it leave the room."

"Jeez."

"Worst part is," I said, "I'm thinking Maes didn't drop those hints about foreign relations because he wanted me to be included. I think he was trying to distract me. He just knew I wouldn't fall for a distraction if it didn't hold any real weight, so he fed me classified stuff on diplomatic problems to keep me off the 'alchemy' path."

"You sound paranoid."

"But it's probably definitely true."

"Oh, I believe you," she said. "I'm just saying. That's how you sound."

"That's why they turned him into a General," I said. "The problem Amestris is having with this 'foreign country' completely involves alchemy. Duh. The higher-ups were probably trying to figure out what to do and Maes sensed they were going to try to use me for something he didn't want me being used for. I mean, I'm kind of a genius at this stuff."

"Modest as ever." She raised her brow. "What does you being an off-limits genius have to do with Maes's promotion?"

"Code 5535," I said. "That's what."

"Code?"

"Ugh," I said, remembering. "I'd practically memorized that excerpt by the time Maes and I got our start in the military. Red tape stuff, you know? Some code that says research teams involving alchemy of any kind have to keep all their super-mega classified work reserved for the military. Amestrian military. That means you don't divulge stuff to outsiders, also known as foreigners. You get me?"

"Can we skip to the 'General' part?" said Sophie. "I'm getting bored."

I sighed all aggravated. "Background information, Sophie! I was about to say. Code 5535 bans orange and red class military research from being disclosed to other countries. Code 9511, however, amends that exceptions can be made during times of trouble if special permission is given either by the Fuhrer or an approved General."

"And?"

"Isn't it obvious?" I said. "The passports? The promotions? The lies? We're not just having trouble with another country. We're involved. Some country is screwing around with alchemy touchy enough to merit bringing my expertise into the equation and Maes volunteered to smooth it over so I'd get passed up. That explains why George and Olga were the only others besides Maes who got promoted today. It wasn't merit. To even be allowed near orange-level classified material, you have to be a rank of Sergeant or higher. Maes is rounding up a team that can stand without me and the officials promoted him so he could lead it." I hugged my tummy. "Whatever's going on, they've pretty much unabashedly handed the reigns over to him. No pressure, right?"

"Quit feeling guilty," said Sophie. She nudged me with her foot. "You think everything revolves around you or something. Come on, Nina. You're so stuck up."

I ignored her jokes. "Can't believe he'd involve you just to get me out of the spotlight. I mean, I'm his wife, but you're his Sophie. And George and Olga? They're kids. I don't want them getting involved with something dangerous for my sake. It's not right."

"Maybe you're wrong about it all," said Sophie. "I mean, what you said made perfect sense as you were saying it, but that was a lot of deducing there, Nina. Not much in the ways of hard evidence. Things could very well be fine."

I shifted my hand under my collar, felt my shared life force. I breathed, eyes shutting slow. This was getting old. I wanted to be able to feel me and my baby's connected souls just by thinking about it, the way I'd gotten used to with my friends when they'd shared my life force.

I opened my eyes. "Do you really believe that, Sophie? You really think I'm wrong about all this?"

Sophie paused. I caught one of her hands trembling for a moment like anxiety had taken over that small part of her for an instant.

"I think," she said, "we should wait it out." She clasped her hands loosely. Her shoulders hunched. "I think those jerks are crazy if they think I'm going to just take a break from life to clean up their political messes. Damn it! Maes and Dad have already faced enough danger for ten lifetimes. Why can't they just stay out of trouble and let someone else, 'take the reigns,' for once?"

"Because," I said. "They're pansies."

Sophie nodded with a bitter smile. "Yeah, that's got to be it." She sighed all dramatic and took a look at her watch. "Hm. Not even ten yet. Hey, you want any piercings? I brought my stuff just in case."

Sophie wasn't kidding. I knew. She actually did body piercings and tattoos for a 'living.' That's what she liked to say. Actually, her _parents_ paid for her livelihood. Sophie did body art for her _'wild youth'_ budget. Also known as her beer and bail-money-for-friends budget.

"You'd look hot with a stud in your nose," said Sophie. Not the first time she'd said it, either.

"Allergy season would be an ugly thing," I said with a shudder. Runny noses and nostril piercings didn't sound like the best combo ever.

"Belly button?" she said. She lifted her tight top to show off the sparkly naval piercing she'd gotten the summer before we'd met. She wagged her eyebrows. "You know you want one."

I had this sudden image of a big pregnant belly with a glitzy stud at the end. I winced. Bad image. Bad, bad image. "I think I'll pass."

"I could do your hips," she said. "Or your back! Dude, I got this one girl at the parlor last year. Asked for rings along her spine. She wanted to lace ribbons through it. That corset look, you know? I get requests for it all the time now. It's a real hit. You'd look great with it!"

"Yeah," I said. "Right there along all my lovely scars. Sounds gorgeous."

"Hey," said Sophie all reproachful. "You do realize Maes isn't particularly special for liking scars, right? Guys are into that rough look. Makes you exotic."

"I got me a husband," I said. "I don't need any weird back-rings. I got my ears pierced when I was twelve. That's enough for me."

Sophie fingered one of her lip studs contemplatively. "So, you want me to pierce them again? Double piercings are hardly daring."

"You're crazy."

Sophie pouted. "I can't help it. I see people and I just want to decorate them."

I turned over my wrists and got a peek at the transmutation circles tattooed into the skin. Just a little pinker than my own tone. Next to all the other discolored patches of scar tissue on my body, the fact that I had alchemy on my wrists was almost as discreet as the fact that I had alchemy on my fingertips and palms. Sophie had done the tattoos for me. Expert work. I closed my hands.

"Sophie?" I said.

She grinned. "You changed your mind about the nose ring?"

I made a face. "Not even. Just wondering if you brought the ink."

Sophie's grin fell. She blinked. "What, like, for tatts?"

I nodded.

She was smiling again. "Absolutely."

I pulled open the top of my shirt to expose that perfect place, that place my hand wandered when I needed to feel my soul. I pointed to the space over my heart and tapped.

"I want one right here," I said. "Can you do it like you did the ones on my wrists? All subtle and stuff?"

Sophie got this glint of gold in her blue eyes. "Don't insult me with stupid questions. Give me a minute to set up."

"No problem." I pressed my palm to my chest and smiled. "Give me a minute to figure out the circle for the job."

* * *

**But, Nina, that sounds ouch!**

**For those interested, I just posted an original piece on dA. Link's on my profile, 'Straightjacket Mama.' It's the short story that just got published in the college journal and won first place. Enjoy my legit material :D**

Replies! (But they're short out of self-preservation on my part)

Harryswoman: Maes is a sneaky guy o.O

Madje Knotts: THANKS SO MUCH FOR THE RECIPE!

Evarria: Of course! Getting to interact with my audience is one my favorite things about this site :D

mixmax300: Prego...is a spaghetti sauce brand!

awesomenaruto: Yeah, I'm not into long waits after cliffy's either *this has been a hypocritical statement on occasion*

KTrevo: I totally added your suggestion to my song bank.

author12036: Thanks! I like feels!

SilverPedals1402: And Maes is going to be a daddy!

naes cornstang: She's very aware she's a mom too, lol XD

DanniMaeAnime92: I do too, haha!

RainFlame: Your suggestions are in the bank! 'All Rise for Meatloaf' was, like, surreal for a sec. A year ago my writing club took an excerpt from an old poem I wrote and they named our group, 'Meatloaf Divas.'

* * *

**CHALLENGE! AUTHOR IS TAKING REQUESTS! Okay, so I finally put up that fic I've been meaning to start, 'Roybecca.' Basically where I'm dumping writer's block exercises and stuff like that. Since it's so relaxed of a set up, I'll take suggestions to keep in mind for later installments. Kind of like that 'King Mustang's Plight' chapter in FL, but not necessarily in crack-fic form unless you want that. Anyway, let me know if you got something in mind that could fit into a one-shot format, okay?**


	6. Personal

**A/N: Ha! How's that for a prompt(er) update? Thanks for the sparkly reviews! I'm thinking you guys are going to enjoy this next turn in the plot...**

**And thanks for the suggestions for Roybecca, guys. I love them! They will be utilized :D**

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Chapter 6: Personal

I pulled at the front of my uniform and groaned. "It itches!"

Sophie folded her arms over her midriff jacket. "Don't complain. It's not like you didn't know this was coming."

I'd brought her to work with me. It was a Saturday, but soldiers didn't get days off the same ways normal jobs did it. You got leave when the workplace could spare you, and with Ed and Maes currently on leave, I apparently couldn't be spared.

Sophie and I had just gotten in, extremely on the late side what with Sophie sleeping in until nine and then taking an hour and a half to get ready. I had to wonder what kind of decent human being decides to sport her naval piercing in twenty-degree weather.

"It itches so bad," I whined. I tugged the front of my shirt away from the bandaged tattoo she'd inked into my chest. "Oh, man. I want to scratch it."

"Shut up," Sophie chuckled. "You ruin that ink and I swear I'll charge you full price for a touch-up. You think it itches now? Try getting it infected. You'll eat your words."

A couple jerk captains at the water fountains whistled as we walked by. I huffed.

"I'm going to assume you losers are hitting on midriff over here," I said with a thumb to my sister in-law.

"You should give yourself some credit, Major," said one of the guys.

"I'm married," I said, putting up my ring. "Married!"

The other nodded at Sophie and said, "What's up?"

Sophie shot them a, 'Seriously?' expression. I grabbed her wrist and pulled her down the hall with me.

"We're late," I said.

Sophie frowned as we left. "You could so file for harassment."

"Maes is funny when he gets jealous and stuff," I said. "He's not here today, so it's not as fun."

Sophie arched a brow. "You like getting hit on?"

"I like Maes getting ridiculous," I said. "Last time he confronted those guys, he said they didn't want to see his, and I quote, 'Fluorine side.' That's right. He classifies his levels of 'protective and pissed' by the reactiveness of elements from the periodic table."

Sophie groaned. "Seriously? No! He's turning into my dad."

I shrugged a shoulder. "Which is all he's really wanted to be since the day I met him, you know?"

"One Edward Elric is plenty, in my opinion."

I smiled to myself. "I think it's sweet."

Sophie stopped in the hall and looked at me all narrowed-eyed and skeptical. "Did you just call Maes turning into my dad, _sweet_?"

I bit my lip. "Is that wrong?"

Sophie furrowed her brow. "For you? Yes. What's going on? Are you sick? Normal girls that hang at the mall call their guys _sweet_. You call Maes _the best weirdo ever_ or a _dang sexy corn perve._ Or, if you're going to go for the cliché, you at least preface it with _pretty much _or some other unnecessary set of gibberish-slash-profanity. And what's with the compliments, huh? I thought you were pissed at him for lying to you and stuff? What's with this goo-goo talk? Seriously, Nina. You've been acting really off since I got here. Is something going on?"

Sophie was one of those people you never would've guessed would be the super perceptive type, so when she saw through you, it was a little bit terrifying and wonderful. What was hilarious was that she didn't seem to have a clue how much she picked up on, how dang subtle it all was to the average eye. She was a lot like Maes that way. Unaware of how weird she was.

"I…" My hand touched over my tummy. I wasn't allowed to touch my chest anymore. Hadn't factored in last night that a chest tattoo meant I didn't get to access my life force from that spot for the next two weeks while the dumb thing healed. I swallowed. "Mood swing?"

"Mood swing?" said Sophie. "Okay, that's believable coming from you. Can't deny it. Jeez. You had me worried for a second, girl."

Oh, damn! Did mood swings happen this early in the game? I mean, hormonal junk got triggered by conception, sure, but Aunt Winry hadn't gone through the big effects of pregnancy until she was, like, a month in! Well, every baby was different.

Aunt Winry had more or less described her pregnancy with Maes as a living hell from the start, while her pregnancy with Sophie had been more along the lines of, 'This baby is a big fat kicking machine and I want it out already!'

The twins were more like, been there, done that, but I have never been this hungry in my life! Is this natural? Maes, take that corn into another room. The smell's making Mommy nauseas. Roy, do you want any more bacon? Whoops! Guess I stole the last of it before you could answer.

Oh, crap! What if I started getting nauseated at the smell of corn? That would be majorly inconvenient as it was quickly turning into the pinnacle of deliciousness in my mind!

No, it wasn't. Shut up!

"Okay, hold it," said Sophie. "When you go silent and make weird faces like that, I start getting worried again. You sure nothing's going on? You know. Besides Maes."

I nodded. "My chest itches is all."

"You're such a baby," said Sophie.

I grabbed her hand and pulled her down the hall to the team's room. "Yeah, yeah. Shut up. I'm tactile. Come on. We're late."

"Not my fault."

"It's totally your fault."

"It is."

I stopped outside the team's closed door and grabbed both of Sophie's shoulders. I looked up at her very much earnestly and said super serious and firm, "This team is a bunch of awkward sweeties. If you break a single heart, I will not be pleased."

She stuck out her lip. "It's not like I do it on purpose."

"You don't really make much of an effort not to, either."

She rolled her eyes to the side. "This is true."

"Deal?"

She fluttered her mascara-fied lashes at me very dramatic. "Deal, sweet stuff."

I took my hands off of her shoulders and bowed. "Very well. You may enter."

We entered.

Frank looked up from a stack of paperwork and said, "You decided to show up, Major." Then he did a double take when Sophie trailed in behind me. He blinked a couple times with way less peeved eyes. "And you brought a guest."

Sophie strode across the room to stand with me at my desk. She moved her gaze fiercely over the team. She didn't try to hide the fact that she was sizing them up. No one was at the slate table this time. They were at their desks doing what seemed to be boring paperwork, the paperwork that I tended to distract them from when I was around.

Every one of them of them was looking up at Sophie similar to how Frank had reacted at first glance. I couldn't see Olga's eyes past her bangs, but by the way her jaw had dropped, I assumed her gaze was bug-eyed for sure. Braddock had done the noble thing and turned his eyes back to his deskwork, clearing his throat kind of uncomfortable. George had turned red and backed up in his seat sort of terrified like he'd never seen a girl do a school dress-code violation before.

Mikey was the best, though. He didn't look all shocked or uneasy in the slightest. He, of all people, was sitting back with his arms folded and a smirk curling the corner of his mouth. I remembered that look. That was how he'd looked as a teenager most of the time. Made sense he'd pull that smile out for Sophie.

"Well, I couldn't very well leave her alone in my house," I said as I shrugged my coat off my shoulders. I threw it over my chair and gestured to Sophie. "Guys, this is my sister in-law, Sophie. She's here from Risembool for a few days. She's pretty much the best and will probably do everything in her power to make our lives harder than they have to be during her stay. Be welcoming, okay?"

I got some nods and _yes sir's_. I plunked in my seat and started doodling on my paperwork while Sophie got people's names and all.

"Okay," said Sophie. "So, you're Frank Charlie, right? I think I've met you before. You're the one who's worked with my brother from the beginning."

"That's right, ma'am," said Frank. "Good to see you're doing well."

He stood long enough to shake her hand then sat back down and got to work again. Now that he'd gotten over the initial shock of her appearance, he seemed to easily slip back into his usual apathetic professionalism.

"Yeah, mutual," said Sophie. "Bro says you're a keeper. I appreciate you keeping him in line."

Frank looked up at the mention of Maes. "Not at all. General Elric has been an inspiration as a commanding officer, ma'am."

Sophie laughed. "Yep, Nina said you had a bro-crush going on."

I waved my hand in agreement. "Called it."

Frank looked a little mortified and maybe squeamish. Sophie pointed to Olga.

"Okay, I met you at Maes and Nina's wedding," she said. "Olga, right? I remember, because you had an eating contest with Sig after they cut the cake. I hadn't realized you joined Maes's team. When did this happen?"

"Late summer." Olga smiled all satisfied. "Olga won this contest you speak of."

"Which was glorious," said Sophie. "If I'd have been able to eat that much when I was sixteen, I'd be a whale right now."

"Olga will share work-out plan with Sophie if ever desired. Turn calorie into muscle."

Sophie raised her studded eyebrows. "Intense." She looked at Georgie, who had his eyes down like he was hiding. Sophie smiled like she'd just realized how intensely cute he was. "Hey, you look kind of like my dad's friend, Kain Fuery. Are you related?"

George looked up and smiled shyly. "Um, yeah. I'm his son, actually. Sergeant George Fuery. Pleased to meet you, ma'am."

Sophie crinkled her brow as she shook his hand. "Sergeant? How old are you, George?"

"Uh," George paused to steal a quick glance at me. "I'm seventeen, ma'am."

"Whoa," said Sophie. "You should still be in high school last I checked. You in some special program or something? Sergeant's pretty up there for such a young guy, right? Well, my dad was a major when he was twelve, but that was special."

George looked wounded for a moment, the way he had when I'd gotten angry about his promotion. He swerved the subject a little, "I graduated early. Test scores."

Sophie smiled and shrugged. "Hey, that's all good. My big brother's education doesn't extend much past elementary school, and he's a twenty-one year old General. More power to you, Sergeant Fuery."

He looked less hurt and gave her a smile. "Thanks."

Mikey was up next. He looked like he was putting his hand up for a shake, but Sophie skipped right over him and left him hanging like he wasn't there. Instead, she walked right up to Braddock's desk and extended her hand to him.

"Sophie Elric," she said. "Sorry, I don't know you from anywhere. Mind cluing me in?"

He shook her hand firmly and kept his eyes on her eyes and nowhere else on her. Good loyal husband.

"Major Thomas Braddock," he said. "Been here just a little more than a week, actually. Makes sense you wouldn't know me. Just the new guy."

"Oh?" said Sophie.

"And a freaking State Alchemist," I added from where I sat. "He's being modest. The guy's certified. He's the one who made the big breakthrough the other day."

Sophie's eyes widened. "Wait, the breakthrough you mentioned while we were brushing our teeth? Or are you talking about that lame one Maes showed at the presentation?"

"The former," I said.

"Dang!" said Sophie. "Nina's been working with my dad on that theory for months! You cracked it, Major?"

Braddock chuckled bashful and sweet. "I just activated a circle that had been months in the making. Nothing special."

"He made the final touches," I said. "_Then_ he activated it. Everything special."

"Hm," said Sophie with a smile. "Well, nice to meet you all."

She got nods and smiles, except from Mikey. He did look a little uncomfortable now. More like how he got with me, except not completely scared off. He stood and put his hand out to her as she passed.

"You missed me," he said with a nice friendly look her way.

She stopped in front of his desk and turned to face him. She eyed his extended hand, frowned pretty much disgusted, and folded her arms tight. Ouch.

"Did I do something wrong, ma'am?" he said with a nervous laugh.

"Oh, not at all," said Sophie. "Unless you happen to be Mikey Havoc?"

He blinked, shot a look my way. I was usually pretty much the only one that called him _Mikey_.

"It's _Michael_, actually," he said. He took the hint and put his hands in his pockets.

"Whatever," said Sophie. "You're the jerk-face that shunned my sister in-law in school. Do you deny it?"

I hunched. Crap. "Sophie, just no."

Mikey pinked. "I didn't…"

She cocked her hip. "Aunt Riza says you freaked out after a failed play date when you were four and spread rumors about Nina being crazy straight until she graduated."

Mikey got redder. He shook his head. "That's not true."

"Aunt Riza doesn't stretch the truth," said Sophie. "Jeez. How'd a douchebag like you make second lieutenant? Couldn't have been based on merit."

"No," Mikey sputtered. "No, I...I mean…"

Even Frank was looking up from his work now. Everyone just spectating. Watching Sophie call Mikey out on some new Nina-quirk. I felt my cheeks get hot and my tattoo was itching to hell. Uncomfortable inside and out.

Sophie scowled. She leaned way into Mikey's personal space, nearly nose to nose. "Don't give me that act. Who the hell picks on an abuse victim over social skills?"

Mikey gulped. "I…"

I stood. "Shut up, okay? It's not his fault!" I huffed a breath and looked away. "He was, like, four years old. We fell asleep at naptime and I woke him up screaming all over the place from some stupid dream. Of course he was freaked out. He didn't know he was doing rumors when he told the other kids. He was just bothered, okay? I can't believe my mom even told you about that. Just forget it, Sophie. Sit down."

Sophie looked at me a little horrified and pitying. "Nina."

I swung my arm and pointed sharp to Maes's empty desk. "Sit down!"

Sophie nodded. "Sure. Sorry." She shot dagger eyes at Mikey that said she wasn't done with him. "We're at a good stopping place."

I hunched in my seat. The reason Selim and Elysia were the only childhood friends I still hung out with was because all the other kids I'd known in school had only been social with me because I had been the Fuhrer's daughter. Underneath that, I had been the freak with allegedly uncontrollable outbursts who had developed some kind of fetish for the drinking fountain and every other source of water out there; the girl that didn't come to birthday parties that involved sleepovers or bathing suits for reasons no one could figure out. I was the Furher and his wife's personal charity case, their good deed, the freakish adopted stray. Mikey Havoc had unknowingly fostered that identity over me from the time he'd entered the school system.

Not. His. Fault.

As I put my signature on a half-read piece of paperwork, I swore I heard Braddock whisper in Mikey's direction, "Not cool, man."

I hoped in my head that Braddock was talking about how Mikey had just now handled Sophie and not about how Mikey had handled me in grade school.

I paused. I looked down at the pen in my hand. I looked down at my paper. I looked at the perfect signature scribbled into the blank. My signature.

"Oh, God!" I said. "I signed it!"

Eyes turned to me, mostly confused. Sophie seemed to understand immediately, though. Her eyes widened.

"You signed it?" she said. "That's paperwork! Doesn't that go against your beliefs or something?"

"What's wrong with me?" I said. I tore the paper in half and then into fourths. "No. This isn't happening. Oh, God. I'm sorry for yelling a sec ago, Sophie. You know, I was kind of lying about the mood swings before, but I think that it just might be true. Look at me. I'm a productive wreck!" I laughed. "Ha. Reproductive wreck."

I bit my lip.

Sophie knit her brow. "Huh?"

Braddock did this thing where his eyes were suddenly on me then they were suddenly back to his desk. He…didn't suspect a thing.

"Nothing," I said. "It's an inside joke."

"Inside," said Sophie, "joke?"

I nodded. "With myself."

"Okay…" She looked at the torn paper in my hands. "Can I make a necklace out of that?"

I crunched the pieces into a wad and tossed it to her. "Enjoy."

"Sweet!" she said.

"Soph," I said.

"Yeah, what?"

I tugged my shirt from my chest. "Heal it with alkehestry?"

She shook her head strict. "You let that tatt heal a fraction faster than's natural and I swear you'll need a touch-up in less than a month."

"It itches!" I whined.

"You can ice it in eleven hours," she said.

I groaned.

Olga showed interest. "The Major has gotten a tattoo?"

"Not like it's a first for me," I said. I held up my wrists. "Alchemy, baby."

"This new one," said Olga. "It is also for alchemical purposes?"

I sucked my lip. "More or less."

"The breakthrough circle?" said Olga with a smile.

"Ha!" I laughed. "Good one. No. That 'breakthrough' was for people who need detailed arrays for transmutations of the like. This tattoo was for more personal uses, you know?"

"Olga does not know," said Olga.

"Maybe," said Mikey with his usual embarrassed flush, "we don't want to know, Armstrong."

"Hm?" said Olga.

"Not those kinds of personal uses, Mikey," I said. "More like I wanted better access to my life force. Up until now, I could only really _feel_ the flow if I was activating one of the circles on my wrist over my heart. I mean, I could do it from other points, but there always had to be that contact. It's been inconvenient. Once the tattoo on my chest heals, with all luck on my side, I'll be able to activate it and access my life force just by thinking about it. Right now it just itches, though."

"Baby," grumbled Sophie.

Braddock had his eyes locked on me with this earnest, straight expression that made me want to tell him I'd been lying when I'd told him I wasn't pregnant.

Braddock asked with caution, "You can access your own life force, Major?"

My brow knit. "Well, yeah. Of course I can."

"Sorry," said Braddock. "I didn't know that was a thing."

"Neither did I," piped up Frank. He didn't look up from his work. "Probably should've guessed, though. How's that work, Major Mustang? I'm curious. 'Accessing' your own life force."

Of course he was curious. I'd shown him my ability to suck life outta stuff when most people only saw me put life in.

"It's just something I do," I said. I folded my hands on my lap and exhaled thoughtful. "Let's see. How do I put it in words? Actually, when it comes to life forces, it's easier to describe them in colors and smells. That sort of thing, believe it or not. But if I had to explain it scientific…" I sucked my lip. "Think of it this way. Most alchemists, like Braddock, can 'access' life's flow to certain degrees, but they only use it as material or as a tool to perform transmutations. It's limited. They need specialized circles and techniques, like our recent breakthrough, to gain that access to complete the given transmutation. Make sense?"

"I'm not new to this field, Major," said Frank.

"No need to get snarky," I said. "So, anyway. In my case, it goes a little further. Instead of _using_ life's flow, I'm able to join it and…it uses me."

Frank looked up for a moment. "You lost me."

I sank my chin onto my knuckles. I sucked my lip. This was so beyond them. Not even Maes or Uncle Ed understood this junk. I mean, not even I had understood it until that day I'd touched Aunt Mei's pregnant tummy in Xing and gotten to join with her and her baby's life force for just a few seconds.

"It's like new life," I said, sitting up in my chair. "Think about when a woman becomes pregnant. She was born with a life force all her own. Then she conceives. A new life sparks out of nowhere, and, even though it's a life force all its own, for the time it's growing inside its mom, that baby's life force is connected to hers. It doesn't feed off it. It simply carries on the flow. That's how it is with me and _life's overall flow_. I'm a separate life force with the ability to join another. When I access that ability, I can touch stuff with my fingers and it's like a direct touch from the Dragon's Pulse. The transmutation circles on my wrists are just doors into that energy that open when I tell them to. With this new circle over my chest, I now have a door to my own life force, hands free."

"I still don't see the point in doing that," said Frank.

I rolled my eyes. "Like I was saying earlier, it's hard to explain what touching my own life force implies. It's like…" I closed my eyes and breathed. "You ever been to a valley, Franky? You ever been to a creek? You know what it's like to feel that soft kind of grass under your feet and smell damp soil after rain? Because that's what it's like. Clover and wind and pine. Warm and cool. Breezes of white fullness. Everything's clear and gentle with grass stains on your knees and the sky's never been so blue on earth. But in that dream, the sun's so gold you could cry. Those scars you memorized leave your body and your mind. All those people you thought were gone are telling you they're there and all that stuff about death turns out not to be scary. Just another door."

I opened my eyes to the stark plaster ceiling. I frowned.

"And then I disconnect and get back to myself," I said. "And all that white turns empty again."

Frank met my eyes when I finally looked over. He was studying me with a kind of awe that I'd seen reserved for Maes mostly.

"That sounds," he said, "very pleasant."

I nodded. I looked out over the others, took in all their expressions, and spoke before any of them could comment.

"Don't you dare tell Maes I got this, you understand?" I pulled at my shirt. "I've wanted to do this tattoo since before we even got married, but he didn't want me to, so I skipped it."

I got nods of agreement.

"Mind if I ask why the General was opposed?" asked Braddock.

"Well…" I hugged my stomach and looked away. "Well, let's just say I used my life force for something big a long time ago."

"Big?" said Braddock.

I nodded. "It ended badly. Maes got spooked and asked me not to use myself as material again. And I haven't. I never will. I don't need to now that I've revised my alchemy. Just, Maes doesn't understand my kind of alchemy, so all I have to do is mention touching my life force and he equates it as using it up. He got spooked. I decided to respect his fear and forgo the direct tattoo. Until yesterday, of course."

"You really were mad at him, huh?" said George.

I met his big brown eyes peering from behind square-rimmed glasses. His gaze was soft, the upset from the previous day's conflict suddenly gone. I sucked my lip.

"Something like that," I said. More along the lines of wanting a door to my baby, but yeah, let's go with revenge on my husband for now.

Braddock watched me like he was onto something with every word I said. I gave him a stiff smile.

"Jeez, Nina," said Sophie. "You've got to teach me how to access that life shit sometime. Sounds like the best trip known to man."

"Get in line," I said. "As if trying to teach your dad isn't enough. I don't need another student getting frustrated on my ass every time I can't explain stuff right. I mean, seriously. Do I look like a walking periodic table?"

"To my dad?" said Sophie. "It's entirely possible."

Olga chuckled. "This is no joke."

"Major Mustang?" said George. "I have a question, if that's alright."

"Shoot, Sergeant," I said.

He looked pleased at being called by his special rank. "Well, I was just wondering. So far, our research has only been applied to _using_ the Dragon's Pulse, so I guess I was just curious about what you accomplish by 'joining' it. Besides it being a nice experience, I mean."

I shrugged. "You've seen what I can do. I have more direct access, so my transmutations are less limited. Remember those grapes I transmuted out of your trail-mix raison?"

George nodded. "They were good, too."

"If you want the truth about my alchemy," I said, "as powerful as it is, it's actually pretty limited when it comes to transmutations of the inorganic. You know, the kinds of stuff Fullmetal was famous for wielding? I can't do that. I can pump life through a squashed seed and make it an orchard, but if you asked me to transmute your pen into a triangle shape, I'd probably find it a challenge. No life in plastic. Using the Dragon's Pulse in nonliving materials is a lot harder for me than using it for transmutations that are compatible with live energy."

"That's kind of cool, though," said George. "Life would be boring without limits on it."

"And dangerous," said Frank.

"You said you perform transmutations with _all_ organic materials, Major Mustang?" said Braddock. "Hope this doesn't sound ignorant, but wouldn't that include the human body? Just, I only ever seen you handle plants since I got here. As far as I could tell, General Elric and Dr. Knox have been the ones working the medical research."

I folded my arms and smiled. "Well, you really want to know?"

Braddock blinked. "Just, you mentioned life forces. Sounds like souls to me. Plants don't have those."

Sophie shot me a proud smile. "She's called the Soul's Circuit Alchemist for a reason."

I caught Mikey shaking his head. "That's a figure of speech. The Amestrian Military doesn't allow research into the field of human souls. Actually, I'm not sure I follow what the Major means about touching her own life force, but it sounds illegal."

Sophie glared at him. I spoke before she could.

"Braddock's right," I said. "So is Sophie. So is Mikey. I can access souls like a boss. I am not permitted to _manipulate_ them under the duress of the Amestrian Military." I looked at Braddock. "So I let Maes and Knox handle the human body, for the most part."

George looked at me excitedly. "Wait, does that mean you can heal people like the General can? I've only ever heard you talk with him about it."

I sucked my lip and folded my hands on my desk. "Not exactly the same thing. Maes uses alkehestry, which is pretty different from what I do."

I met George's questioning look and recalled the way Uncle Ed had writhed and groaned while I'd healed his stomach in Xing those years ago. Not even automail surgery had been able to make Edward Elric scream like that, so I'd been told. I remembered the agony on Maes's face, his pale features twisted in pain and fear as I'd restored his lungs. I'd healed Maes and his dad with the help of the extra soul energy in my life force, a buffer and focus of my power. A healing like I was capable of now, one directly from the source, the pain could…

I looked at my thumbs. "My healing transmutations are a lot more powerful, but the pain from such rapid detox and regeneration is almost too much to live through. Like I said. I leave it up to Maes to handle the human body."

Mikey looked a little ill. "I'll be sure not to break my arm in your proximity, Major."

Sophie glared. "Nina would sooner let you reset and splint it yourself, you little shit. She's just that nice."

"Anyway!" I said. I cleared my throat. "Enough about my stuff. It has nothing to do with this workplace of ours. Get back to being bored."

Mikey practically cowered, but I was pretty sure he wasn't afraid of _me_ this time, oddly enough. George said, "Yes ma'am." Sophie entertained herself by giving Olga the gift of a paper necklace fashioned from my signed and ripped deskwork.

Braddock and Frank, on the other hand, did not seem interested in getting bored like I'd instructed. I'd been so polite, too! But there they were, looking at me more or less serious and not paying attention to their desks.

"Major Mustang," they said in sudden unison. They looked at each other in a quick motion that said they hadn't meant to speak at the same time. After the brief, silent exchange, they looked back at me and said, "Major Mustang," in accidental unison again.

I cackled. "Oh, wow! Awkward as heck! You two should just quit while you're ahead, good sirs."

Braddock opened his mouth to speak, but Frank was quick on the draw and spoke first. "Major, I need a word."

"Uh, yeah," said Braddock. "I could use one too, actually, if it ain't a bad time."

Frank focused his eyes on me like Braddock was a side note in the conversation. Braddock seemed to catch onto Frank's attitude and seemed uneasy with it. He was the new guy, after all.

"I choose Major Braddock," I said. "Private matter? To the hall we go!"

Frank frowned. "My matter of discussion is relatively pressing, Mustang."

"No problem, sir," said Braddock. "I can wait."

"You guys are making me scared," I said.

Frank stared at me, frown tightening into a near grimace for just a moment. He closed his eyes. He opened them and stood.

"Hallway, Braddock," Frank said. "Knowing her, we'd better share this time slot."

I stuck a fist on my hip. "Knowing me? What's that supposed to mean? You giving me sass, Frank?"

Frank held the door open for us and waited. "No offense, Major, but you've trended an unfortunate tendency in the past to storm off toward the end of any topic you deem personally controversial."

"What a mouthful," I said.

He arched a not very amused brow and I sighed.

"Fine, you got yourself a point." I walked on to the door and Braddock followed hesitantly. I got pouty on our way out. "And this better not be about the tattoo. I'm twenty-four years old. I can do stuff. Grown up stuff."

"It's not the tattoo," they both said.

Immediately after the door shut, Braddock rung his hands and said, "Look, I ain't sure now's a good time. I may bring it up later, if it's all the same."

I blinked. "That private?"

It was like he was having trouble meeting my eyes. "Yes, Major. I'd have to say so."

Frank dragged his hand down his face. "How about this? I'll make a loop around the hall while you say what you came to say, Major Braddock. I don't have time for ambling."

"Yes, sir," said Braddock. "Appreciate it."

I folded up my arms and frowned at Frank sarcastic. "Mister Impatient."

Frank looked not very loosened up by my statement. He started down the hall with his hands in his pockets. I huffed and tugged my shirt from my chest.

"Sorry," I said. "He gets tense when Maes isn't around."

Braddock shook his head. "Don't worry about it."

"What did you need to ask me?" I said.

"I…" he said. He looked away. "Well, I'm not sure."

I lowered my voice. "Is it about your family? Do you guys need help or something? Because, I'm a helpful person even when Maes isn't around, contrary to common belief."

His smile was thin and nervous. "I'm sure, but that's not it. My family's doing just fine. Thanks, though."

I looked at him, caught the flush building at the tops of his ears.

"What's got you embarrassed?" I said.

"Nothing," he said. "I just…" He hesitated with his mouth a little open for a moment. Then he let out a long breath and shook his head and said, "Forget it. It really ain't my place."

I narrowed my eyes. "Well, now you have to tell me. Come on. What's got you?"

He swallowed hard like he was taking a pill without water. The flush spread to the rest of his face. He took a breath. I waited very patient.

"I was just," he started, "concerned. Yesterday, after the General left, you seemed…I don't know, panicked?"

"Yes?"

His brow wrinkled. "I mean, I felt bad, letting you leave on your own with you acting so disoriented. I didn't really know what was going on, you talking on and on about being pregnant all the sudden…"

My heart felt like it was thudding drumbeats. I gulped. Braddock continued like this was all common knowledge.

"I figured it was none of my business," he said. "I mean, that's between you and your husband, but you were so up in arms about it. I half wondered if you were just thinking out loud of some way to get General Elric to stay, and that's not my business either. I wasn't going to pry. You just…a moment ago, you were talking about sensing souls. If you have some kind of _sense_ that you're pregnant, I need to make sure you're all right, whether it's my business or otherwise. I got a sensitive conscience when it comes to being decent to your fellow man. It makes me nervous, you being in that condition with your husband away. I wouldn't have said anything, but you've been so frazzled since yesterday. I've never seen you so frantic since I met you, Major. Is everything okay?"

"Frazzled? Frantic?" I felt a tremble run through me. "Oh, Braddock! It's so much worse than that! My stupid hubby knocked me up with corn cravings!" I sniffled. "Of course I'm not okay!"

I leaned forward to plant my face into the front of his blue uniform and sniveled completely pathetic. And here I'd gone to such lengths to throw him off.

The door to the office swung open with enough force to whip the air. The thud of high-heeled leather boots stopped in the doorway.

"Oh, my God!" Sophie screamed. "I knew it!"

Her wiry hands grabbed my shoulders and yanked me away from Braddock and into her arms. She squeezed me and shook me and squealed like a piglet. My head rocked back and forth with her jerks. I caught a glimpse in my peripheral of Frank standing rigid and terrified a ways down the hall with his mouth moving to the word, "Pregnant?"

"Oh, my God! Oh, my goddamn God!" said Sophie. "Are you crying? You're adorable!"

The other team members had apparently gathered not far behind Sophie. I heard them buzzing to each other.

"Congratulations, Major Mustang!" said George like a little chirping bird. "I had no idea!"

I sniffled and rubbed my eye with a clumsy fist. "Of course you had no idea," I croaked. "I'm not pregnant. Not at all."

"Aw!" said Sophie, hugging me tight against her. "You're so obvious and you don't even know it!"

"It's true?" said Mikey. "She's actually…?"

Olga nodded. "No need to be bashful. The art of reproduction has been passed down the human race for generations."

"Hey, keep your voices down," said Braddock, kind of in a muddle. "Show some decency, fellas, would you?"

"I'm not pregnant," I said. I took a deep, sobbing breath. "I'm not!"

I bit my lip and pushed away from Sophie in a jerk. Saying it like that, saying it so firm, scared me to death. Telling the world I wasn't pregnant with that kind of authority made me feel like the baby was going to disappear. I wanted to feel my life force, I wanted to probe into our joined souls, but with the tattoo still fresh in my chest, I couldn't do any more than trust the dulled sense in my being that I wasn't alone. I couldn't risk activating it too soon.

I stomped to my desk, Sophie trailing swiftly after me like the nag she was.

"But, you're happy about it," she said, "right?"

I saw Maes in my head, replayed the too-close memory of us holding each other in the bathroom after I'd ignited my birth-control pills in the sink. My heart raced. If I'd been able to tell him right then, if I'd had just a trace of hope to give him somewhere in that memory, hope like I had living in me now…

I plunked down in my chair and slammed my pen into some paperwork. "Shush. I'm busy."

"Oh, God," said Sophie, hand to her mouth. "You do want this baby, don't you? I mean, I can't be off base on that. You were just saying yesterday…"

I ground my teeth. I wanted to say it. I wanted to shout it through every door and window. I wanted Maes to get his ass back from Grandma's so he could come hear our news and shout about it with me!

I stood fast enough to make my chair screech. My fists smacked against my desk.

"Shut your gossip-holes!" I said. "You don't know the first thing about it! Maes and I tried freaking hard for a baby, but guess what? We were just two idiots who'd gotten their bodies too fracked up as kids to make babies as adults. We freaking bawled over this twisted junk! If I, by some miracle, ever got fertilized, Maes would be the first to hear it! It's not just some cheap piece of info or some good freaking news. We're talking hard-core marital topics, here. Maes hears it first, you understand me? Then I tell my mom!" I sank back into my chair and cried into my hand. "So, I can't be pregnant. Because Maes hears it first, got it? And he's in Dublith right now and he's busy, so…Just shut up!"

There was a moment of silence where all I saw was my palm against my teary eyes and all that could be heard was big, obnoxious Nina-sobs. Then I felt Sophie's arms coming around me from behind and I smelled her product-plastered hair as she nuzzled her face against mine.

"Hey," she said real soft. "I didn't hear anything, okay? None of us did." I felt her draw away a little and say very firm, "Did we, soldiers?"

A chorus of, "No, sir!" filled the room. The united sound of compliance to Sophie's farce triggered another hard sob out of me.

Sophie patted my back. "Oh, hey now. Hush, sweet stuff. Don't make yourself gag."

I hunched, fisting my hair, calming my breath. "Crap. General? Seriously?"

"I need to take you home," said Sophie.

"So, so much." I sniveled. "But, wait. Franky didn't get to talk to me about his pressing matter yet. I'm being a flake! Just like he said!"

"It can sit," said Frank a little raspy.

"Damn right it can sit," said Sophie.

My sister in-law helped me to my feet and held my arm as we headed out. I felt really dependent and it was mildly wonderful because, even with Maes gone, I had a Sophie.

My eyes darted to the faces of my team members. Some of them were pale with shock or discomfort, some flushed and awkward, and some even brightened with excitement or something. One thing was the same in all their expressions, one common element.

Fear.

More like raw concern. The concern Braddock had shown in the hall.

That slight tightness in the features, that quickness in the breath, and that wrinkle in the brow and dilated pupil crap. It was underneath every silent stare I got as Sophie and I left. Frank, Braddock, Mikey, George, and Olga alike. Their eyes followed with a kind of worry that I wasn't used to getting from them. As Sophie took me into the hall, I felt my chest break into another sob. This was not good.

* * *

**No telling how much of that little episode was pregnancy hormones and how much of it was just Nina being Nina. Guess we'll never know.**

**The final pages of chapter 2 for 'Drastic Measures' have just gone up on dA, for those interested. Link on profile.**

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REPLIES!

mixmax300: Maes should know by now that trying to keep Nina out of trouble ALWAYS backfires XP

Evarria: Yeah, FL was sort of an experiment for me. Now I get to go right to the good stuff with this sequel.

author12306: I can't decide whether Nina is so smooth she's sloppy or so sloppy she's smooth. Hm. Maes is so smooth it should be illegal.

SilverPedals1402: Thanks about 'Straightjacket Mama'! I saw you faved it ;v; It's a little old, but it came from the pit of my soul.

KTrevo: Well, you gotta take into consideration that a good part of the military staff think Nina's a piece of work. Secrecy from her is understandable.

Harryswoman: Maes thinks fast. Nina talks fast. It works.

pitstop96: I'm feeling much better, thanks! I wasn't sure how I'd do Nina when it's supposed to be 3 years post-FL, but she's practically writing herself now.

* * *

**CHALLENGE! Tell me which of Maes and Nina's research team members you like the best so far and give me you reason(s) why.**

**Example- I like Olga Armstrong because she talks in third person and we have no idea why. Yet.**


	7. Interrogation

**A/N: So, this chapter took a while, but it's worth it, guys. **

**Omg thanks for the patience!**

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Chapter 7: Interrogation

Sophie rubbed my feet while I waited with the phone to my ear. I didn't need my feet rubbed. They weren't swollen in the slightest. Actually, my tootsies were quite dandy. I mean, I'd only been pregnant for, like, a week. But, hey, she'd offered. I'd seen no reason to turn her down.

"Come on," I grumbled under my breath. "Pick up, you stupid husband."

Maes had said it's be three days. He'd said it like he'd been sincere at the time. Maes was good at lying, though, so there was really no telling. Maes hadn't called once in those three days and I'd told myself that no news was good news and he was probably just busy.

Then I'd gotten a call from my dad on the day Maes was supposed to be back. First time I'd heard from Daddy since I'd walked in on the war meeting and he'd told me to get out promptly afterward. All Dad called to say, though, was just a little heads up that General Elric had been detained in Dublith and would be coming home later than originally intended.

My first response had been, "Wait, you mean, like, a couple hours later, right?"

But it had been five days since that call. Five freaking days! And nothing. Not a call from Maes. Not a call from Grandma or Sig. Not another word from either of my parents. Not even a measly update from Aunt Winry on Uncle Ed. Apparently he'd been detained in _Xing_ without much word, same as Maes.

At first I'd been kind of a case. I hadn't even shown up to work the day after Dad's call. Instead, Sophie had read aloud to me straight until bedtime from a copy of one of her best friend's self-published paperback romance novels while we shared mint ice cream out of the tub. I'd gotten over it enough by Tuesday to show my face in the office, though. It was kind of a funny experience, because every member on the team had been well aware of Maes's delay by then and they were so wary of me when I showed up that I was tempted to fake a breakdown just to see their reactions.

The days went by, and eventually my panic over Maes being gone in the midst of chaos faded to a constant, underlying anxiety that didn't leave, but didn't get in the way anymore either. I'd fallen into a nonchalant irritability that made me sarcastic and helped me not to care quite so much about the details. It was a part of my personality that had reared itself substantially in the years I'd known Maes, and it came in handy both with and without him.

Sophie paused in the foot rubbing as I dropped the phone back on its hook.

"No luck, huh?" she said.

"Depends on how you look at it," I said. "I mean, what the hell was I even going to say to him? Maybe him neglecting my calls could be considered luck at this point."

Sophie rolled her eyes and set my feet on the ground. "Or maybe my brother needs to get his act in gear and call his damn wife back. Jeez. You know, he's really starting to piss me off."

That made my breath quicken. Sophie didn't get pissed at Maes easily. He was her big soft spot.

"He doesn't know I'm pregnant, Soph," I said.

"He would if he'd come home when he told you he would."

"Yeah, well," I rolled my shoulders back and yawned lazily. "Too bad, I guess."

Sophie came around and squeezed her arms around me. "Let me make you some corn muffins."

"Gross!" I said. "Can you double the recipe?"

Sophie grinned like she was so close to laughing it was making her face hurt. She patted the top of my head and sauntered off to the pantry for the cornmeal.

Sophie and I had always gotten along better than you'd think girls like us could get along with most anybody, but, since I'd spilled about my pregnancy, she'd gotten borderline supportive. She'd freaking cooked for me, and Sophie detested housewifery. Inevitably, Sophie became the one person so far besides me allowed to totally acknowledge the truth that I was, in fact, pregnant.

Plus, I planned on eventually going to some kind of doctor about this whole baby thing and if Maes couldn't get his butt to Central in time for that, I sure as hell wasn't going to see those damn white-coated bastards without backup. Sophie seemed the next obvious choice.

It was Sunday and I had the day off, by some miracle, in spite of my unexcused absence the Monday before. Sophie and I had been stopping by Aunt Winry's in the evenings after work, but with the day free, we planned on going between breakfast and lunch sometime so the twins would be napping for part it and Aunt Winry could have some time to chat without worrying about keeping constant track of her boys. I'd asked Sophie the day before if maybe she could ask Aunt Winry some subtle stuff about pregnantness that I'd have to go to a doc to find out otherwise.

Like, for example, should I be worried about the fact that I was growing what would eventually amount to a multi-pound child directly in front of the damaged part of my spine? And, with that in mind, just how long could I put this whole doctor's appointment thing off?

"Enjoying yourself?" Sophie asked with satisfaction as I licked the last buttery crumbs of hot cornbread off my plate.

I wiped my mouth with my sleeve. "My tattoo itches and I've been impregnated with a feral desire to suck up sweet corn like a vacuum consuming dust particles. What is there left in life to enjoy?"

"You know, sometimes I find it hard to believe you're five years older than me."

"Four years!" I said.

"Four years," she said. She added softly. "And thirteen months."

Sophie was a year younger than Maes so she was supposed to be four years younger than me, but no. When precise, she was a year and a _half_ younger than her brother, therefore just over five years younger than me with my precise three years and four months on Maes's age. I'd calculated that some time after knowing her and afterward had promptly decided she was four years younger than me as I'd originally assumed and anyone who said otherwise was confused.

"We should head to Mom's," said Sophie, eyeing her wristwatch.

I slumped in my seat. "You go on."

Sophie stared at me. "Huh?"

"I just think maybe I'll stay here, you know?" I sighed. "Aunt Winry's, like, mega smart and she's going to figure out I'm pregnant if we start sniffling around for advice. I'm only a week along. I figure I'll worry about it later."

Sophie raised a studded brow. "You serious? You said last night you wanted to be ultra careful."

"Yeah." I massaged my fingers nervously. "But what if Aunt Winry finds out without Maes there? He's going to want to be there when she finds out. And I kind of wanted my mom to hear it before your mom, if that doesn't sound shallow."

"No," said Sophie. "It really doesn't. Whatever, Nina. It's cool. We don't have to talk to my mom. She's had experience with complications, but it's not like she's a certified doctor. If you really want to be careful, just hook up an appointment with someone sworn to secrecy via Hippocratic oath. I'll even go with you if it'll make you feel better."

I groaned into my hand. This was what I'd been trying to avoid. Sophie was right. I did want to be careful. Besides the spinal damage from three years prior, I'd gone through enough beatings and malnutrition as a young child to warrant some major precautions now that my body was supporting two lives rather than just mine. I mean, technically, I had a history of fertility issues, as stale and dusty as that sounded.

I'd counted on monitoring my baby's life force in the early stages. I mean, it had felt strong last I'd touched it, but I'd be holding off exploring it too deeply while the tattoo on my chest went through its early healing process. All I had for the time being was the general sense that it was there. Not nothing, but not everything either. A responsible parent would want more, press for better control over the situation.

Of course, most parents didn't know for sure if they'd even conceived until weeks after the fact. And I was at eight days, so I couldn't be all that negligent in retrospect.

"Sophie," I said softly. "I'm freaking terrified."

She put a hand on my head and bunched her heavily ringed fingers through my shaggy hair. "So understandable, girl."

"I mean, I've got minimal control here," I said.

"No dip."

"All I can do at the present moment just now is keep my oven healthy until the bun's golden brown."

Sophie cackled, threading her fingers out of my hair to hug me. "Dude, you're priceless!"

"It's like," I sucked my lip, "Maes not knowing has gone from annoying to excruciating to just plain scary. What if my pregnancy with this one turns out kind of like Aunt Winry's pregnancy with Maes and as soon as I hit the morning sickness stages, things go majorly downhill for me and baby? And then telling Maes about the baby turns from fun to not fun at all because I'll be doing it as a warning instead of great news."

"He's going to see it as good news whether you run into complications or not." Sophie nuzzled my ear. "You know that."

"Well," I frowned, "that's pretty much stupid."

Sophie sighed. "Nina."

I hunched like a turtle retreating into its shell. "Damn them. Damn them all. Those bastards. Slaughtered my friends, stole the first three years of my life, warped the rest of my childhood into fiery nightmares and scars I wasn't allowed to show the other kids. Memories so bad I suppressed them just to get by and completely lost it when they came back." I took a breath that shook with wild anger. My fists clenched against my thighs. "Being pregnant's supposed to make you happy. You're not supposed to worry about old wounds making for a dysfunctional oven!"

Sophie's breathing was kind of choppy and on the furious side against me, but I soon found it was for different reasons from me. "I'll kill him. That idiot! He may not have known you were pregnant, Nina, but he knew he was leaving you with the realization that those lab bastards messed with your ability to bear children. After all you've been through, he won't even pick up the damn phone? Screw him! Cocky little jackass! I'm going to knock him out the next time I see his smug face!"

I wriggled from out of her arms. She was hugging me tight and I felt a little bit smothered. I stared at her, her eyes. Her expression was flushed with anger, but the strained pout in her mouth and watery look of her gaze told me she was frustrated enough to cry about it.

"Sophie?"

She glared at the floor. "What?"

I grabbed her cheeks and made her look at me. Tilting her face to a different angle seemed to have the same result as tipping a pitcher. Small tears flicked from her lashes and bled trickles of mascara down her cheeks.

"Why do you like me so much?" I asked. I'd kind of been wondering for years.

She tugged her face away and ran the back of her fist over her eyes, drying tears and smudging her make up worse at the same time.

"Because," she said. "My brother likes you."

"Maes likes everyone, last I checked." I laughed. "Except our good pal, Bob. He hated that guy."

Sophie sniffled. "Dear God, Nina! You're always talking about the 'Maes Effect,' like big bro has something on you. Ever since I met you, you look in the mirror and all you see are the remains of an experiment. Then you turn around and see Maes and all of the sudden you're looking at a hero. You do realize you're just as smart as him, don't you?"

My mind wandered onto memories of Maes reading fast enough to make his eyes vibrate in their sockets. I remembered the few times he'd recounted a train of thought to me, the few times he'd thought aloud without meaning to. Sophie seemed to understand what was going through my mind.

"Thinking fast is a handy talent," she said. "But obtaining and retaining information is useless if one can't apply it to anything. Maes has always been good at that."

So have you, Nina. That's what her hard stare was saying to me. You're good at what Maes is good at.

"He has his ways," said Sophie. "You have yours."

"You like me because I'm like Maes?" I should've expected that.

Sophie threw her head back and groaned. "I like you just fine, Nina. I show it with you more than I do with other people because you don't like yourself half as much as you should."

I blinked. "Excuse me?" Her words were flattering, I guessed, but she kind of sounded insulting the way she was saying it.

She stood and took my shoulders in her grip, stared me hard in the eyes. "Okay, that came out wrong. Listen, I'm not into helping people with self-esteem issues 'find' themselves or whatever you want to call it. That's complete and utter bull. I'm not here to boost your confidence. I'm not here to 'like' you, either. Jeez. I'm not here because everyone's a fan of Maes and I think you should have at least one fan on your side."

It was funny. She didn't say that last one like an insult at all. She said it kind of the way Maes had said the other night that I had a lot more friends at Central Command than I realized. She was saying I was oblivious.

I shrugged her off. "Wait, you're not telling me why you like me. You're scolding me for even asking!"

Sophie stood straight and folded her arms with a snooty glance to the side. "I swear. You and Maes both. You just can't get a clue. You know each other and everyone else like open books, but you don't know a single thing about yourselves. It's sad." Her ears were turning red. She glanced at me. "I respect you, okay? Is that so wrong?" She scuffed her foot against the floor. "It just pisses me off when bro disrespects you. That's it."

I blinked. I felt a warm tickle building in my chest and making my cheeks rosy. I snorted. I laughed. I pointed my finger as her and doubled over on myself with giggles. Sophie pouted her lip.

"What?" she said.

"Oh, man!" I said. "You're like a female version of Frankfurter! I could kiss you!"

"Shut up!" she said. "It's not like I'm your fan club! I already said that!"

My insides hurt I was laughing so hard. "I'm sorry," I panted. "Just…oh, wow. No one's ever said that to me quite like that."

"What?" She rolled her eyes. "That they respect you?"

I shook my head. I took a calming breath. "No, I get that plenty. Believe it or not, most people actually mean it when they say it lately." I sighed and rested back. "Come on, Sophie. I know I'm smart. I'm just surprised you noticed. It's funny to me, because people usually respect me for my attitude or my insights. Sometimes alchemy. No one ever quite classifies it as intelligence, though." I looked up at her and smiled. "Thanks, Sophie. That was really sweet. You're pretty smart yourself."

Sophie's expression slackened. "I wasn't giving you some hollow compliment."

"Neither was I." My shoulders sank. "But you're right. I do feel inferior to Maes a lot of the time. All the time. If it's not one thing, then it's another." I shook my head. "It's rarely intelligence, though. We've all got something to offer, and I don't value brains nearly as much as most other people do."

Sophie smiled a little. "I should've expected that from you."

I shrugged. "Yeah, well." I stood. "I should get into something fresh and stylish so we can visit your mom."

"You're coming?"

I nodded. "I could use a mom hug after a conversation like that, and my mom's been too busy for me, so yours seems like the most logical option right now."

Sophie squeezed my shoulder with a gentle hand. "Yeah, okay, sweet stuff. I need to fix my make up. Mom can sniff out tears from a mile away."

I patted Sophie's hand then pointed to it where it rested on my shoulder. "You get this affectionate and sweet with everyone you _just respect_?"

She jerked her hand away all blushing and sulking. Dang. She was about as okay with being caught showing mushy emotions as her dad was. I'd heard stories of Uncle Ed being pretty much just like her before Maes had come along and domesticated him.

"Hey," she said. "Nina?"

I paused from heading to my room. "Yeah?"

Sophie folded her arms and looked away. "I've been talking with the guys you work with every time I go in with you. You talk about Lt. Colonel Charlie being obsessed with Maes, but what he has to say about you is nothing short of unbreakable admiration. Sergeant Fuery told me the other day what you told them about team captains and players. He said that General Elric makes a winning coach and Major Mustang is a captain worth playing beside."

"What the hell!" I crossed my arms and huffed. "I didn't mean it like that. I was talking about Maes being the captain!"

Sophie grinned. "They know."

"I can't believe this crap! I'm such a total player!" I paused. "That sounded bad, didn't it?"

Sophie shrugged. "Hey, I'm not exactly one to judge."

I swatted her arm. "Go fix your gorgeous make up."

Sophie shot me one last smile. "Yes, sir!"

…

The first thing Sophie and I noticed as our cab pulled up to her parents' house was the extra car in the driveway. The second thing we noticed were the dents in the bumper. What I noticed next was those dents in the bumper were familiar; in fact, they were my doing from a brief driving lesson my dad had supervised when I was coming out of high school. The first of many reasons the State of Amestris had eventually revoked my driver's license.

"Holy guacamole!" I said. "My parents are here!"

I bounded out of the cab and I heard Sophie huff a breath at being left with the fare. Too bad. My fricking parents were in there!

"Nina!" Sophie called after me. "Nina, wait up!"

I ran up the path and pounded my fist to the door.

"Nina," Sophie whined. She tugged my arm. "Quit it, would you? The twins are supposed to be napping right now."

I pushed the doorbell a few good times in a row. "Screw that. If my parents are here, that means they have free time, which means there's no excuse. They can't escape it now."

"Escape?" Sophie sounded like she wasn't sure she wanted to know.

"Bwahaha!" I said. "There will be no mercy!"

Sophie rolled her eyes. "Ugh."

The doorknob made a sound like it was being unlocked. I heard a muffled male voice say from the other side, "No, I got it."

I stepped back. The knob turned and the door creaked cautiously open by just a crack.

"Can I," said the voice, "help you?"

There was a pause as I tried to make out the man's face past the door he'd systematically hid behind. Then the silent moment ended in a whoosh. The door swung full open and six feet of pure gentleman yanked me and Sophie into a tight hug.

"Hey, it's you!" Uncle Al was so excited, I half wondered if he realized my feet weren't touching the ground. "What are you doing here? Wow, it's really been a while!"

"Whoa, ease up," Sophie laughed. "You're crushing us with your love, Uncle Al."

I squirmed in his hug and his arm let go all at once. I landed on my feet. I panted air back into my lungs.

"Oh," he said with a hand awkwardly rubbing his hair. "Sorry, Nina. Did I hurt you?"

I straightened my coat. "Why are you here?" I glared. "Is Maes with you? You have five seconds to say yes before I transmute your stupid grin into jelly."

Uncle Al's eyes widened all shocked and hurt and maybe scared. "What?"

Sophie's hands were grabbing my arms in an instant.

"Hey, Al?" Uncle Ed's voice called from inside. "Who's there? They giving you trouble?"

"Tell them we're not interested," Dad called in his peeved kind of tone. "I don't have time for door-to-door salesmen."

Sophie jerked me from the doorway and gave Uncle Al a strained smile.

"Give us a minute," she said to him. "We'll be right with you."

I pouted at her. "Sophie."

She looked me stern in the eye. "We'll be right with them."

Uncle Al nodded and retreated into the house a little weirded out and hesitant. He left the door open a crack for us. Sophie waited a few moments before getting on my case.

"Do you have no restraint?" she said. "None?"

I thought for a moment. I nodded. "None."

Sophie growled under her breath. "Dammit, Nina! You can't just ask straight questions and expect answers. Seriously. Since when has that worked? What ever happened to interrogation techniques and deduction?"

I let out a harsh sigh. "Who even knows? Whatever. Let's get inside. Uncle Al's probably warning them we're here so they can mobilize."

She grabbed my arms again and blocked my path. "Nuh uh. You're not going in there until you calm down. I know you. You're in one of those moods where you'll blow up over any given thing and spout off every secret you can get out before you either storm off or break down. You're freaked out because of Maes being gone and you're not thinking straight. I want you to take a breath and try putting on some kind of filter before you start talking to the family. Otherwise, you'll end up saying a lot of things you're going to wish you hadn't said later."

I swallowed hard. I relaxed my shoulders and sank in my shoes. I let out a long, steady breath.

"You're right," I said. I looked to the side. "Want to play dumb?"

Sophie raised her eyebrows. "Yeah. Not too dumb, though. Don't want to be obvious about it like we have something to hide."

I nodded. "We'll do it like Maes. Fed me classified information about foreign relations to keep me off the classified information about alchemy."

"We'll play their game."

I grinned a little evil. "By their rules."

Sophie smiled back like a pierced-up gremlin. "They'll never see it coming. Not from us."

"The ultimate filter," I said. "This time I choose what I leak." I smiled wider. "This time I lose it on purpose."

"There will be," said Sophie, "no mercy." She put her hand on my shoulder like a comrade in arms. "You ready, sir?"

"Affirmative, soldier." I chuckled and led the way to the door. I paused at the knob and whispered back to her all secretive. "Let's scam their pansy asses off with style."

I strode down the hall with purpose, tracking clods of slush into Aunt Winry's vacuumed carpet. Reaching the living room, I let myself in to face the three middle-aged men; Uncle Al next to Uncle Ed on the big couch and Dad across from them on the littler couch. I noted quickly that every one of them seemed up tight like they were ready to say stuff to me. Mobilized. Just as I'd expected.

"Nina," Daddy started. "You have to understand…"

"I apologize for my behavior earlier," I said. "I'm on my period."

Silence.

Sophie stepped forward. "I am too. We're tracking."

Pale middle-aged men. There was a long pause in which Sophie and I stood on display and the three menfolk tried very hard not to look straight at us. Jeez. They must've congregated fairly recently, as Uncle Ed had his feet propped up on a worn out suitcase that hadn't made it back to his room yet. Uncle Al was clad in one of those dorky Xingese outfits all layered for the cold and rumpled where he'd wrinkled it on the train ride over. Dad was sitting erect and drained of color, as would've been expected given my entrance, but I was more interested in the fact that he was in full uniform, winter coat included. He was here straight from work. And he apparently couldn't stay long enough to even bother hanging up his coat.

Uncle Al blinked like snapping out of something and looked over at the other two with growing amusement—Dad stunned in his silent, uncomfortable way and Uncle Ed stunned in his twitchy, awkward way. Uncle Al let out a breath. A slight smile touched his lips. He seemed kind of fond. He looked up at Sophie and me and stood.

"Sorry you're not feeling well," he said. He gestured to the now wide empty spot beside his brother. "Take a seat. We really appreciate you stopping by."

"You better," Sophie said with a teasing smile. "Where's Mom? We were dropping in for her, actually."

"Oh," said Uncle Al, blinking. "She and Mei took the kids to the park."

"The girlies are here?" I said excitedly.

Uncle Al nodded. "This is Lanny's first time seeing snow. Big sisters wanted to show her how to make a snowman."

Lanny. Ha. After naming their fourth child, Lan Fan, in honor of a dead friend who turned out not to actually be dead, Uncle Al and Aunt Mei had resorted to cute nicknames to cover the mistake up.

"They're building them with alkehestry, right?" said Sophie with a smirk.

Uncle Al looked a little nervous. "I made them promise to do it manually the first couple of times."

Uncle Ed laughed. "Yeah, good luck with that, Al. Jun's probably transmuted an ice-wall half as tall as HQ by now."

Sophie looked smug at the empty spot on the couch in front of her and seemed to make a point to sit right next to her dad, brushing shoulder-to-shoulder so he'd feel nice and very much awkward. Uncle Ed seemed to make an actual effort to shake off his discomfort over her alleged menstruation and he swung an arm around his daughter's shoulders.

He squeezed her tight, saying, "Hey, sweet stuff. I missed you."

Sophie leaned her head on his shoulder very cute. "You'd have missed me less if you'd been here when I got here."

Uncle Ed smiled apologetic. "Yeah, sorry about that. Something came up."

"We noticed." I sat down on my dad's armrest next to him and patted the top of his salt-and-pepper head. I eyed my father with a pout. "When's my Maesy coming home, Daddy? It's been forever."

Uncle Ed groaned. "His name's Maes. _Maes_! If one more person calls him that…"

"Maesy?" said Uncle Al. He shot Sophie a wink as he sat at her other side and she giggled.

"Yes, that!" Uncle Ed fumed. "Sounds like something you'd name a little girl."

I tapped my chin. "He can be quite a woman at times."

My dad chuckled. I felt his broad hand on my waist and I looked down to see him nodding at me to sit beside him on the couch. I kicked off my shoes and dropped my coat on my lap as I sat beside him, a silent declaration of, 'please stick around.'

"So," he said after a moment. "Back to your question…"

I exchanged a look with Sophie. Here went the filter. "About Maes."

Dad nodded a little serious. Not my favorite thing.

I hugged my knees to my chest and stared at the carpet. "Why do I get the feeling that this is more complicated than just some things coming up?"

He had his hand resting heavy on my hair. "Because it is."

I nodded, chin on my knees. "He's a General."

"Yeah," said Dad.

"At twenty-one?" I said.

I knew the answer to this one. I knew full well why Maes had been promoted. The way Uncle Ed's eyes flicked to meet my dad's for a pained moment, though, said my filter was working.

I pressed on. "We've been trying to contact you, Daddy."

Silence.

"Me and Sophie," I said. "We can't get ahold of Maes and you keep avoiding our calls. We know you're doing it on purpose."

He paused. "Yeah."

I hugged my legs like I needed comfort or something. "You came here for Uncle Ed and Uncle Al. You weren't looking for Nina-time. Sophie and I showing up was an accident, am I right? You were going to leave soon. You never even took your coat off."

Dad shifted to meet my eyes all sad and hurt. "Hey, now. It's not like that. Remember? Things have gotten complicated."

I took a breath. I could practically feel my dad's feelings of confliction pivoting from State troubles and onto me. Good. I watched him loosen his coat from his shoulders. He didn't take it all the way off, but, whether consciously or otherwise, Dad had been affected by my comment that his leaving his coat on implied a desire to avoid me. I'd successfully helped him make the decision to stay and to include me to some degree.

"I need Maes home," I said. I let my eyes sink and allowed air into my voice to play up the helpless side of me, a side that already existed so was way more convincing when enhanced than faking completely. "I hate this."

"What's wrong?" Dad said, cutting right to the chase.

I could hear the worry in his tone, the hint of urgency that told me my efforts to inspire protective instincts with my wielded demeanor had done the trick. It seemed to do the trick beyond just him. The opposing couch rustled with Uncle Al's weight shifting forward and Uncle Ed looked at Sophie like maybe she might know something. She honestly looked like I might be a little too convincing and she wasn't sure I was filtering and she was ready to swoop in and rescue me.

"Nina?" she said.

I rocked my head into my hand and spent a split moment recalling an old memory of Ten screaming all night after getting his arm broken through his skin by a frustrated researcher. I let the memory end in a blink, lasting just long enough to trigger believable tears. I sniffled and soon felt the warmth of my daddy's hand on my back.

"What is it?" he whispered.

His voice was that soothing way he used to get when he'd talk me down from nightmares, which meant he was exactly where I wanted him. I gave into a sob.

"God, it's so white!" I said. "The snow, the clouds, the entire flipping Command Center! It's just so white!"

Dad's hand slid to my shoulder and held me with a steady grip that said it all. I was bringing him back to those eight weeks; those eight weeks he'd watched me lose my mind in that white prison. The more his grip tightened, the steadier he held me, the more I knew he was feeling it all over again. Cruel, but very convenient for the agenda I had in mind.

"This damn weather," I sniffed. "Makes my joints ache and it's like he's got his sword going through me all over again. I can't make it stop!" Not a total lie. I was drawing from previous truths, just truths that weren't necessarily as recent as I was implying.

"Hey, it's okay," Dad said. "You can't let it scare you when you lose control. That only makes it worse, doesn't it?"

He was practically reciting his old words of comfort down to the letter. I had him now. I caught a glimpse of the Elric's' expressions and confirmed I had them too. Even Sophie looked worried beyond pretending.

"You idiots," I said. "Can't you see what's happening? A conflict in a foreign country arises that calls for my alchemy but could put me at risk, so Maes goes to extremes to take me out of the spotlight and puts himself there instead."

Uncle Ed was pale in a sickly way that told me he was remembering. Dad's hand had become firm enough on my shoulder to assure me. I went in for the kill.

"Take the freaking shades off your eyes!" I said. I looked out at them teary and desperate. "It's happening all over again! Maes is going to smile like he has it all together while I sit and wait in this white prison knowing he's out there trying to be me! Only difference this time is he's dragging inexperienced soldiers and family members who deserve a little peace down with him for the sake of preventing the risk of me crashing and burning all over again. We're not dealing with Xing this time, boys. No one's going to go out of their way to back Maes and his team up if you send them over the border, and if you keep leaving me out," I glared, "no one's going to be there to smooth it over when they can't fake it anymore. Don't you ever forget just who ended up saving the day in Xing, and I did it with only a fraction of sanity on my side. If you had done things your way, we would've died. You owe me your lives and I don't owe you a damn thing besides the strength I gained from learning to persevere in the face of being lied to and underestimated by every available source of trust within range."

I looked at my dad, eyes narrowed. He seemed to flinch away from me without meaning to. His usual expertly contained expression had fallen into some kind of horror and disbelief.

"How," he said, "how did you know?" He frowned. "Who told you about the team we're sending?"

Sending a team over the border. Confirmed.

"Maes. Duh," I said. Because his sloppy efforts to cover it up had been all I needed to figure it out.

"No," said Uncle Ed. "She's lying. Maes is the last person who'd include her in this."

Uncle Ed not only involved but possibly a member of said team. Clearly holds authority in the matter to some degree.

"Seriously?" I said with an arched brow Uncle Ed's way. "Maes was smart enough to know he wouldn't be able to throw me off what was really going on unless he threw me a legit bone. He doesn't care about what's classified. He just wants me as far away from the foreign alchemy as he can get me."

"Calm down, Fullmetal," said Dad. "Riza mentioned a week ago that Maes had been leaking select information to keep Nina happy."

Mom had known all along that Maes had told me about the foreign relations part to keep me off the alchemy part. Dad now spoke about it to Uncle Ed as common sense. It had been expected from the beginning that I would try to get involved. Very likely that precautions had been made in advance to keep me in the dark against my will.

"How'd she know about the foreign alchemy?" said Uncle Ed, still in a mood.

The foreign alchemy. I'd said it earlier in that structure as part of my dialect. Uncle Ed's common speech, however, altered the meaning from, 'alchemy _in_ a foreign land,' to, 'alchemy _from_ a foreign land.' Likely a land not formerly specialized in alchemy, in that case. Possibly one that aspired to be. More than likely desired alchemic power to counter State Alchemists, which meant unfriendly past relations but dormant due to Amestris's clear advantage.

That complicated things. My dad and his government had made friends with too many places. Who the heck would be stupid enough to go against an ally as strong, not to mention loyal, as Amestris?

"Nina?" said Uncle Ed with a frown. "Who told you?"

"I figured it out," I said. I pointed to Sophie. "Ask her. I seriously figured it out in one stinking night, and it's really not that impressive considering how obvious you guys have been. I mean, you've been gathering specialists, for gosh sakes. Uncle Al, Sophie, Aunt Mei, Grandma, blah, blah, blah. Do I need to go on?" I smiled, made sure to contort it in that bitter way like I was mocking him. "It's disgusting," I said. I looked at my dad. "How blind you can be when you only concentrate on one thing. Look what you've done. You played this whole game off the fact that I never asked questions when I was little. You're taking advantage of the fact that guys in white lab coats beat the fight out of me. You think that makes me stupid or something?"

Dad looked at me for a while, just stared. Gradually, his face melted into a smile that was a little amused. He put his hand on my head. I tried not to be too obvious about freezing. Dad raised his eyebrows.

"So," he said. "Are you done?"

I swallowed. His eyes. Dang. His smile! He looked…proud.

He cracked a grin. "Damn. You really had me there for a minute. Been a while since I've been so cooperative during an interrogation."

I immediately frowned. "Screw off, monkey ears."

Dad laughed, because I was, like, the only person who could get away with making fun of his monkey ears. Uncle Al laughed and shut up quick when my dad looked at him, because I was, like, the only person who could get away with making fun of his monkey ears. Sophie laughed and kept laughing when my dad looked at her, because I was, like, the only person who could get away with making fun of his monkey ears. Uncle Ed just sank into this very much exasperated slouch and shook his head like, 'Oh, hell no.'

"Interrogation?" he said. "Seriously?"

I puffed out a long breath and let myself smile a little. "Yeah. Interrogation."

Uncle Ed shot Sophie a frown. "Interrogation?"

Sophie rolled her eyes. "Would you have told us if we'd asked?"

"Wait," said Uncle Al. "I'm not sure I understand. We were being interrogated? Did I lose?"

Dad and I laughed at the same time.

"Lose, Alphonse?" said Dad.

Uncle Al seemed to get all self-conscious. "Oh, well, I guess I was just wondering if I accidentally said too much, now that it's come to light that that was what the girls were going for."

Sophie waved her hands defensively. "Don't go lumping me in with Nina. She's the mastermind. I just went along with her period tactics, and I wasn't even lying."

"Thanks for that, Sophie," said Uncle Ed.

"But, really," Uncle Al pressed. "I have to know. Did I give anything away? I mean, I barely said anything. I don't see how any of it could've been considered leaking information."

He was so cute! Overthinking it to heck completely oblivious to how stupid of an interrogator I'd have to be to ever actually admit how much I currently did and did not know. Dad soon said as much with a proud smile my way.

"I wouldn't worry too much about it, Al," he said. "Nina's not going to tell you whether you were helpful or not. She knows better."

Uncle Ed leaned back in his seat and looked to the side kind of pissed. "I question your parenting methods frequently, Mustang."

"Yeah, we've established that," said Dad all light and teasing.

Uncle Ed looked back at him. "I'm serious this time. That was a pretty intense conversation we had just now to be dismissed as Nina's interrogation style." He looked at me. "What you said about Maes. That wasn't funny, kiddo."

"Ed…" Uncle Al said quiet.

I folded my arms. "No, it wasn't funny. It wasn't funny three years ago and it sure as hell hasn't gotten any funnier since. Don't kid yourself, Uncle Fullmetal. I didn't ask fake questions to weasel answers out of you three. I stated the hard truth and took advantage of your flustered reactions."

Dad touched my arm the way he did when he wanted me to quit while I was ahead.

Uncle Ed narrowed his eyes at me. "I don't appreciate having my emotions screwed around with for the sake of your advantage, kid."

I let out a laugh. I laughed again. I hugged my stomach and giggled, letting myself fall back on the couch. Sophie looked worried.

"Wait, really?" I cackled. "You don't like folks screwing with your issues to their advantages?" I grabbed my dad's hand. "Hear that, Daddy? Uncle Ed doesn't like people screwing with him!"

"Nina…"

I stood, hands on hips like the sassy mama I was. "Oh, cry me a freaking river, you little whiner. You don't like being handled? Welcome to the club! There is an alchemic conflict going on in a foreign country and my husband has taken it upon himself to lead an effort to keep the State's most qualified alchemist—cough, me—out of the fight. You think I was kidding about being a little on the freaked out side that Maes is pretty much repeating history by leaving me out of a battle only I can fight? You want to hear something really funny, the funniest thing you'll hear all day without a doubt? It's the fact that you actually think you have room to talk." I let my arms hang at my sides. "See? Funny. Ha. Ha. Ha."

Uncle Ed kept his narrowed eyes on me for a moment and I could just sense the retaliation coming. Then Uncle Ed's eyes went from narrow and angry to extremely serious and way calm. I realized in that moment that he hadn't been particularly angry at me. Maybe just frustrated about something. It was an unexpected shift and it made my arms feel goose-bumpy. Before I knew it, Uncle Ed was addressing my dad, placing me on the sidelines of the conversation.

"Mustang," he said softly. "Just tell her. This could go wrong fast."

I thought about agreeing with Uncle Ed's motion immediately, but the way my dad sat up just a little more and looked a little alerted and frightened at the words made me keep my mouth shut. There was a moment of quiet where my dad and Uncle Ed held eye contact with each other and neither of them looked particularly happy with how things were going down.

"She can handle it, Roy," said Uncle Al.

Dad kept his stare on Uncle Ed. "That's really easy for you to say. You realize that, right, Al?"

"Yes," said Uncle Al, unfazed. "But it's probably the closest thing you'll get to an informed, unbiased opinion in this room right now. Just tell her." Dad gave him a glare, but Uncle Al just met it with a steadfast gaze that was almost more intimidating in its sincerity. "Tell her, Roy. Because it needs to come from you."

Dad hung his head. It wasn't defeat. It wasn't willing surrender. It wasn't even tiredness that had him slouched with his eyes down. The way he'd tucked his chin to hide behind his collar and his bangs drooping over his eyes, it was like he didn't want me to see what his face looked like. I bit my lips together. I'd pushed a button, a serious button. This was more than Nina pressing a matter that wasn't in her best interest. He looked so…

"Hey, never mind it," I blurted. I grabbed his hands tight, old words I'd thought I'd given up spilling out of me like a broken dam. "It's okay, Daddy. I trust you. I don't have to know. I don't mind. I'm being ungrateful. Just forget it, okay? Okay, Daddy? Okay?"

He met my eyes with this odd disapproval that wasn't directed at anyone in proximity, a kind of hurt that was familiar to me. It was the agony he held in his creased brow and the slight gape in his mouth. The last time I'd seen it had been a few months ago when he and Mom had come over for lunch and I'd asked Mom if I was allowed to take a sip from my glass. It wasn't like I'd even realized I was doing it, but it still hit Dad hard that I was yet to get out of that old habit.

"Baby," said Dad, "why'd you say that?"

I found myself hugging my arms like I didn't want my vulnerable places exposed. I felt a tinge of self-loathing for letting myself remember that night with Ten all for the sake of believable tears, because now I was having some trouble blocking it all the way out. He's in a better place, Nina. All that pain and junk's long over and he's someplace pretty and green that smells like clover flowers and grass after rain.

Dad spoke soft like he was talking to a scared animal. "Nina?"

I looked away. "You had that look. You know, the one you get right before Mom has to talk you down. But she's not here."

Dad let out a breath so harsh that I felt it blow on my skin from where I sat beside him. Made me jolt, look up at him all wary. He leaned away a little, eyes apologetic like he figured he'd scared me.

"You're right, Ed," Dad muttered.

There was another moment of quiet.

Uncle Al folded his arms. "And?"

Dad smiled thinly. "You're right too, Al." He looked back at me and said softly, "I need to make a quick call."

"I'm going to remember you said quick," I said.

Uncle Ed pointed back with his thumb. "Phone's in the kitchen."

Dad left me behind. I scooted on the couch so I was closer to the door so maybe I'd hear some of what he'd say.

"You trying to eavesdrop?" said Uncle Al like he didn't know he asking something obvious.

"Yeah," I said. "Shush. It doesn't work if you talk over it."

Uncle Ed arched a brow at me. "You sure you should be—"

"Shush!" I said. "I do it all the time. Don't even worry about it. If he wanted to keep the conversation that private, he would've closed the door behind him."

"…Give me Lt. Colonel Hawkeye," Dad said from the other room. "No, I need her now." He paused. "Thanks."

"What'd he say?" Sophie hissed. "I didn't catch that."

"He asked for my mom," I said.

"Wait, who'd he ask?" said Sophie.

"The receptionist. Duh."

"So, you're mom's still at work?"

"Yes," I said. "Shut up."

Dad was speaking again. "…No, Riza, nothing like that. She didn't even know we were here. Like I said. She came for Winry, but she…"

"I didn't hear that," said Sophie.

"Shut it!" I said. "I'll tell you later."

Sophie pouted. "Whatevs."

"…I don't care what you're in the middle of," Dad continued from the kitchen. "I can't just tell her without you here…" He paused. "Because I can't." Another pause. "Well, have you been able to reach Maes?" Pause. "Then tell him to get his ass home! We don't have time for this." Long pause filled with utter silence besides Dad's long, final sigh. "Yeah, fine. I get it. Get back to the meeting. I'll figure something out."

The phone met the receiver with a clink. I slid back to my end of the couch and melted back into a relaxed-ish position like I totally hadn't been eavesdropping. Uncle Ed chuckled into his hand. Uncle Al just looked away like he'd witnessed something naughty but was hesitant to be the tattletale in the group.

Sophie leaned forward and whispered, "So? What'd he say? Are we going to war or something?"

I heard Dad's shoes walking across the hall and I stuck my finger to my lips to hush Sophie up. Dad came into the doorway and the first thing out of his mouth, incidentally, was, "Sophie, could you give us a minute?"

Sophie looked up at him and blinked. "You kidding me?"

Dad didn't flinch. "No."

She looked over at me. The way she was gazing seemed to be like a silent question more than anything. Did I want her to stay? Well, I did.

"Go, Sophie," I said. "It's okay."

She nodded and got up.

"Al?" said Uncle Ed.

Uncle Al nodded and got up with Sophie. "Yeah, my niece and I have some catching up to do. It's been a while. Pardon me."

As the two left, I heard Sophie ask, "Are you making sure I don't eavesdrop?"

Uncle Al answered, "Nina tends to get overwhelmed with too much stimuli. It's probably better that there are less people in the room right now."

I snorted to myself. "Nina precautions. Perfect."

"Hey," said Uncle Ed. He met my eyes. "If you need to be alone with your dad, you just tell me, okay?"

I nodded. "Um, deal."

Uncle Ed moved his attention to my dad. "So, you going to tell her?"

Dad ran his hand over his face, breathing deeply. He nodded. He exhaled. "Look, Nina, it's true we've been keeping you in the dark about a lot of this for your own protection, but it's not for the reasons you're thinking." He smiled a little. "I'm proud of you for figuring out so much on your own, but you've got too much of the story wrong to go uncorrected. So, just listen. No interrogating. No assuming. Just hear me out and trust that it's the truth this time. Can you do that?"

I felt myself go still, like my body knew to be serious. "Yeah. I can do that."

Dad nodded. "Alright. I suppose the first thing you should know is that the military's problem at hand isn't actually a conflict with another country, though that was a good guess. As you know, during the past few decades, Amestris has developed relationships with multiple neighboring countries and, as a current superpower, Amestris has often been the first to be called upon when another country is in need of assistance. Well, a little over a month ago, I received word from the Prime Minister of Drachma that there seemed to be some disturbances up north within Drachman borders."

"Disturbances?" I said.

"Yes," said Dad. "The Drachman government tends to be relatively tight-lipped about their internal issues, so the Prime Minister didn't go into too much detail. He simply stated that there had been some scattered incidents that looked like they might've been initiated by some kind of illegal organization and he wanted me to have the soldiers at Briggs relay any reports of odd occurrences at the border that might suggest terrorist activity."

"Extremists?" I groaned. "My favorite."

"That's what it looked like at the time," said Uncle Ed, reminding us he was there. "There's more, Nina."

"Last week," said Dad, "I got another call. The Prime Minister was a lot more specific about Drachma's situation this time as things had apparently stemmed beyond what he believed his country could counter on its own, and we're not talking militaristic. He said the incidents of so-called terrorism had actually been more along the lines of mass kidnappings of citizens aging from infancy to about five years, and similar incidents have been going on in spurts for the past three years. It's been a longtime nationwide pattern of child disappearances systematically from orphanages or off the streets. They're targeting children without parents or family to pressure the government to make efforts to recover them; a perfect method to ensure the abductions didn't attract lasting attention." Dad frowned. "Which is exactly the opposite of what the average terrorist is going for."

My stomach clenched. "Infancy to five years?" I sucked my lip. "That sounds kind of more like child trafficking."

"That's a logical enough assumption," said Uncle Ed. "But why would they be taking infants, in that case? Why would they leave behind the older children and only go for the little ones who can't even take care of themselves yet? It seems too inconvenient for child traffickers to go through the trouble of raising and potty-training their slaves before they're ready to sell."

"Then," I said, "what?"

Dad put his arm around my shoulders. I could tell by the way he met my eyes that he was making himself do it. He didn't want to look directly at me. I huddled deeper against him. His arm tightened, hugged me strong and protective.

"Last week," said Dad, "some officers from Drachma's military police force stumbled upon an abandoned building near their eastern border. One of the officers heard noise coming from under the floor. They were able to enter the basement of the building." He stopped. He was really fighting to keep composure. I could tell. He took a breath. "They found five bodies in that basement. Children. Abused, neglected, and…autopsies show signs of…" He stopped again. "They'd been experimented on, Nina."

My stomach flopped. I broke his hard-earned eye contact and hunched over on myself, breathing in a gasp.

"Experiments?" I said. "Like alchemy?"

Dad held me tighter. "We don't know. The only physical traces were along the lines of experimental drugs in their systems and incisions from—"

"Dammit, Dad! I know where they're from!" I grabbed my hair in fists. "That's what this is? That's it? This is what you didn't want to tell me? Because now I really get it, you know? It's them, isn't it? You think it's them. Those guys in the coats who," I shuddered once and it was like I couldn't stop, "who broke Ten's arm right through his skin and made him scream all night without any water, so…" Oh, man. This was bad. "That's it, isn't it? You think it's them?"

Uncle Ed started, "We don't know—"

"But we destroyed them!" I said. "We did! Remember, Dad? Mommy took fire alchemy away and so their program got shut down because their research for fire alchemy got all ruined and impossible and stuff."

"That research was government funded at the time," said Dad. "They got shut down by their sponsors, Nina. But it's possible some of the researchers decided to continue their methods without the Drachman government's knowledge."

"No, that's over," I said. "It's been too long. It's not them. It's some extremists doing some different research on kids that just looks like what happened to me. Copycats, okay? Okay?"

For a moment, Dad just held me while we all waited for it to sink in. I gasped and panted and kept grabbing my hair and shaking my head like I had no choice. Screw this. Screw it! Screw them all!

"Nina," said Dad. "One of the children was still alive at the site when the officers found her."

I let out a sob.

"Before they lost her," said Dad, "she asked for _Thirty-eight_."

"Thirty-eight?" I said. Like a name? I felt my face crumple and I started crying so hard it hurt. "Oh, God!"

"We're not going to war, Nina," said Uncle Ed. "Maes isn't in danger. He's been elected by the higher-ups to lead an investigation. That's all. The promotion enables him to freely discuss classified information with the people he'll be working with. He's just gathering minds he can trust right now. He wants to do this right, kiddo."

"Right," said Dad. "We all do. We're going to end it for real this time."

My body shook and trembled so violently I had to tell myself not to vomit multiple times in my head. I hid in my hands and sputtered. "Am I going to be involved in this thing?"

Silence.

I peeked through my fingers. It was awful. Uncle Ed and my dad both. They looked so ashamed of themselves they could die. That was it.

"All this time you've been avoiding my calls," I said. "You were trying to figure out how to sugar coat the fact that…you need me for this."

Dad hugged me with both arms. I burrowed into his chest, his warm uniform.

"Your mom was against it from the beginning," he said. "She's in a meeting right now trying to limit your involvement. It won't be hard to take you out of the investigation entirely. The military knows next to nothing about your past and that's something they don't ever need to know. Just say the word. This doesn't have to be your fight."

"Mom was against it?" I held tighter. "What about you?"

"I think," he said, "that you know your limits better than I do."

I breathed against him, gradually, slowly, calming. This didn't have to be my fight? That was so true. I'd won my fight, hadn't I? We'd won. The thirty of us. We'd crossed our finish line. No one deserved a break more.

_That's silly, Twenty-one._

That's what Nine would've said.

Silly.

I was being silly.

Five children had died together in an abandoned basement, five children forgotten by society and then used as materials by men and women who should've been protecting them. They were children like we'd been, children like Ten, who'd taken the beatings harder because he was one of the youngest. Children like Nine, who'd been denied food for days at a time because she was too traumatized to cooperate during evaluations. Children like Eighteen, who'd looked after the littler ones like me but ended up being left to die when he went too long without showing any results or progress from the experiments he'd endured.

No. They weren't like us. They _were_ us. They were stragglers. They were babies who needed names that weren't numbers and plates stacked with burnt toast. They were people who'd died before they could be told they weren't trash, they weren't bitches, they weren't objects. They were loved.

And Thirty-eight could still be out there.

I drew away from my dad and ran the back of my fist over my face to get rid of tears and snot.

"Nina?" he said.

"I'm okay," I said. "You were right, Dad."

"Oh?"

I nodded. "Absolutely. I know what I've got to do. Just promise me something?"

"Anything." He sounded way sincere.

I looked down at my palms, my fingertips, the scars where my fingers had ignited themselves in my sleep. "When we arrest the researchers who hurt me and my friends," I swallowed, "before you have those bastards executed, give me half an hour with them to make them wish they were dead."

* * *

**Evil!Nina is my new best friend.**

**Don't worry, Maes fans! He'll be back in all his glory next chapter ;)**

REPLIES!

RainFlame: Haha! Love them equally and without bias; it's like they're your children or the kids in a class you teach XD

Madje Knotts: Heck yeah it's going in the Roybecca drabbles!

author12036: George is cuteness in a to-go box.

mixmax300: Oh, yeah, tattoos apparently itch to heck. I was going to get one, and then I found out how much of a pain it was while they healed and I was like, "No."

Evarria: Poor Mike. Some people just can't handle the Nina Effect.

Firaga Productions: Frank's a friggin badass. He's what makes the team go from 'eclectic' to 'cool.'

KTrevo: Yep, even Olga has a little backstory :D

Harryswoman: Put the Fuery boys next to each other and I think I might die of maternal instincts.

kingkill67: Thanks! Been typing my little fingers off!

Guest221b: Wow, thanks! Nina's become a favorite POV of mine too. She's fun no matter what she's saying/thinking/doing.

**Wow, guys! I loved the results of last challenge! All your faves were so varied and your reasons too! To be honest, I can't really pick a favorite, but since no one picked Mikey (except RainFlame-ish?), I'll say he's my favorite for now. Because he's cool enough until Nina makes him uncomfortable and that's just too funny considering how tiny she is compared to him. Plus, he was the one member of the team mentioned in the FL epilogue, if anyone remembers.**

**CHALLENGE: This summer marks Flame Legacy's one year anniversary! Tell me one of your favorite moments, conversations, or maybe a chapter that got you really emotional. What scene had you reeling? (not including OVA's this time)**


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